Child of the Cipher
by Celery Sticks
Summary: A young Jane Shepherd is in C-Sec custody after being left behind by the Reds around the same time Liara T'Soni travels to the Citadel on behalf of her mother to assist in the translation of newly discovered Prothean tablets. What happens when their paths cross and the good doctor finds that this scruffy, confusing human with the temperament of a varren can read Prothean?
1. Chapter 1

_A young Jane Shepherd finds herself in C-Sec custody after being betrayed and left behind by the 10th Street Reds around the same time Liara T'Soni travels to the Citadel on behalf of her mother, Matriarch Benezia, to assist in the translation of newly discovered Prothean tablets. What happens when their paths cross and the good doctor finds that this scruffy, confusing human with the temperament of a varren has no trouble reading Prothean text?_

 _A re-write of Commander Shepard and Dr. Liara T'Soni's story._

 _Enjoy._

 **C-Sec | Presidium Embassies | The Citadel | September 7th 2174**

The Presidium was as beautiful as Liara remembered it, bright and shining and all too reminiscent of her home world, Thessia. Bright white towers dotted the artificial skylines created by the ancient sky station's gravitational rotation. While the Citadel may have been built long before the technologically-superior Protheans, it had fallen into disrepair as all things did when the creatures that built them were no more. When the asari found it abandoned and empty, not long after their species had proudly achieved spaceflight, they'd immediately set to work on making the lonely vessel a touch more livable. Progress was greatly advanced when they were joined by the salarians some fifty or so years later, and the amphibious race had been content to let the asari inspire the aesthetic while they dug around in the real roots of the station. The curved architecture and vast pools of clear water made her feel like she was back home with her mother, having another 'discussion' about her future.

Being the daughter of a Matriarch was not a particularly easy life to live... particularly for an asari that felt more comfortable among fossils than she did people that were still very much alive.

It could have been worse, especially if for example her mother had not personally funded Liara's many degrees and years of schooling. After years of living in her mother's shadow, attending gala after gala Liara had finally found her voice and told her mother what she really wanted to study and what lengths she'd go to for it. Benezia hadn't even batted an eye. Within the week Liara was packing for her first year of graduate study, abroad. As in away from home. Far away from home, where the people were two-faced and every conversation was a game of strategy. Regardless of anything else her mother may have been, the fact that she allowed her daughter to find her own path and pursue her own interests was something Liara would always admire Matriarch Benezia for. Though their relationship was complicated, there was little Liara would not do for her mother… which was the whole reason she'd come to the Citadel in the first place.

She sat rather stiffly in a chair that was almost comfortable in the main lobby of the Executor's office and waited nervously for one of the many armored, fierce-looking turians to approach her and (hopefully) reveal themselves to be the longtime friend her mother wrote to her on behalf of.

Just a few days ago Liara had been operating alone on an abandoned dig site in a not-particularly-safe area of the human colony, Eden Prime, when her omni-tool dinged with a new message from her mother. Apparently, one of Benezia's contacts on Palaven had a healthy interest in Prothean history and had recently funded an expedition that turned up some interesting. Her mother had forwarded her some images of what looked like ancient tablets inscribed so densely the lines of text seemed to bleed together and even Liara's extensive knowledge of the Prothean language allowed her to understand only a few of the complicated symbols. From what she could immediately interpret, the texts were related to the Prothean extinction, her area of expertise. It was no wonder her mother had thought to contact her.

Despite her nervousness and the general feeling of abstract panic that afflicted her whenever she was surrounded by other people and not decrepit architecture, she couldn't wait to get her hands on the tablets. It had been a while since she'd found anything other than the remains of armories or basic residences; what she wouldn't have done to find a library, or even a government office! Anything to add another piece to the Prothean Extinction puzzle she'd spent decades trying to solve.

Liara took a furtive glance around the office one more time, finding that the other officers had vacated, leaving just her and the grumpy-looking turian filing police reports at the desk nearby. She eventually gave up on appearing patient and professional for her mothers contact and bent over to retrieve a datapad from her pack. _Seeing as I'm the only asari in the area, I assume that he'll find me when he's ready. He asked me to come here specifically, after all. In the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to get a head start..._ Liara thought to herself.

At her request, Liara had been forwarded a basic case file, including details of the expedition and high-res snaps of the ancient text. She had been surprised to find that the expedition had taken place on Eden Prime, the very same world she'd been surveying. Part of her was slightly jealous that she had not been the one to find them, especially considering she'd been on the very same planet, but a larger part of her was simply ecstatic at their discovery. Whenever she came into contact with new evidence that could help paint the picture answering why the Protheans had so rapidly disappeared, and at the height of their civilization no less, she jumped on it. She poured through known texts and translations, hoping to catch a clue or a sign that someone else may have missed. That was of course rather naïve of her; if asari matriarchs that had already spent centuries studying the very same texts still weren't able to form supportable theories as to why the Protheans disappeared, it wasn't exactly logical to assume that Liara (with only a meager 106 years to her name) would be different.

That never stopped her from trying, though.

 _What kind of scientist would I be if I gave up after just fifty years of study?_ Liara mused as she tapped away at the surface of her datapad. She opened the files containing the images she'd requested and her screen became filled with obscurely hieroglyphic stone. Deep, spaphire eyes filled to the brim with scientific curiosity darted back and forth, and their owner willed herself to remain patient. She might not understand them now, but she would. She would do everything in her power to do so, and she was looking forward to the process immensely. _Though I do wish I actually_ knew _who I was going to be working with._

The turian she'd been put into contact with had yet to reveal their name or status within the Hierarchy. All she really knew about this strange benefactor was that they knew her mother on at least a business-professional level. She only allowed the 'at least,' because Liara, like any child, was not overly fond of thinking of her mother in any way that hinted at the... physical activity necessary for parenthood. Even asari were not free from that embarrassment. Still, Liara wondered about the origins of their relationship as curiously as she dared. Benezia was not famous for interacting with _anyone_ unless it was for the benefit of the asari… or for herself. The intimidating matriarch was not above murder, trading with information brokers, and on one occasion Benezia had even blackmailed her own daughter into attending a series of painful social events that left her practically on her knees begging to go back to her last dig site. There was only so much false humility, bravado, and thinly-veiled insults an asari could take over drinks before she wanted to let out a biotic shockwave and flee out the shattered windows.

The material _used_ for said blackmail was something Liara would never divulge. As both a scientist and archaeologist, she knew very well that some things were best left buried.

 _I can see why mother recommended me for this,_ Liara thought after she shook her head and refocused on the images in front of her. _From what I can understand, these markings detail plans for mass amounts of stasis pods. Perhaps the extinction occurred over time, and the Protheans were hoping to outlast the effects? It could have been some form of disease if that was the case. From what we know the Protheans had military superiority over practically every other species in the galaxy at the time. They were also responsible for the destruction of a quite a few. It's unlikely that they would retreat or willingly go into hiding to avoid some sort of conflict. Then again, who's to say the pods were for the Protheans at all? Could they have been meant for a conquered race? The Protheans did keep slaves, maybe these pods were meant to house potential servants while the rest of the species' aggressors were eliminated._

 _However… these plans seem complex. Too complex for the purpose of simple containment... what would have been so powerful, so terrifying that it could send an entire species of technologically advanced militants into hiding?_

Something caught her eye and Liara zoomed into a tight area of the tablet, her heart-rate jumping and her eyes lighting up as she found one symbol she could read immediately. The glyph depicted what most scholars would agree was a Prothean silhouette, with a streamline body and oblong head. Held between the silhouette's hands was a bright, glowing light. The suggestion of one, at least.

 _Vigil._

It was a symbol that appeared in a number of other Prothean carvings and texts, and for a few theorized reasons. The first was in relation to familial deaths, another (and less widely accepted) theory claimed that the Protheans would hold vigils for fallen soldiers once a war had been won, or a border dispute settled.

"The threat of extinction would certainly be a fair excuse for a vigil…" Liara mused. She was frustrated that the rest of the images remained unreadable no matter how hard she stared down at them. Fifty years of study and she felt like a child struggling to master her first picture book. A huff that bordered on childish escaped her, and not a moment later the sounds of a struggle made her glance up from the datapad.

The doors leading out into the Presidium, doors that she'd passed through not too long ago, opened to reveal an agitated C-Sec officer. His mandibles were flared and the angry red of his affinity markings seemed to match his mood. In his firm grip (Liara could tell even from where she was sitting that a more fitting word would be "painful") was a young human. Female. Her hair was long and loose, unusual seeing as most humans from the Zakera Wards (where Liara assumed she was from) either served in the military and kept their hair short or tied up. It was a dark brown color not dissimilar to the soft earth of digs Liara remembered fondly from lush, garden worlds. She wore loose, indiscriminate clothing that did not match any military faction Liara had knowledge of, and for all intents and purposes looked like the sort of person that wanted to be anywhere but in the eye of the public. Though Liara was not skilled at reading human facial expressions (the lack of crest somehow managed to throw off the readability of their features entirely), she could tell that this human in particular was trying not to incur any further rage from her handler. Even as she allowed herself to be pulled and pushed, the only anger Liara could see was in the clench of her jaw.

"Hurry up, you 10th Street trash! The sooner I get you in holding, the sooner I can go after your runaway buddies. You cretins have been dealing in my wards for far too long, and you'd better hope they don't get away or I'll be paying you another visit before the day ends," the officer hissed menacingly. "And I won't be quite as friendly then."

"If this is friendly, I'd hate to see how I treat your enemies," the human commented, forcing a grin past her discomfort.

"Did I say you could talk?" The officer shoved her forward with an aggressive shout. Liara watched on in minute horror as the human tripped over her own feet, unable to balance herself because her hands were bound in thick metal cuffs. She hit the floor with a crash, and Liara winced.

 _I knew relations between the humans and turians were bad, but that seemed rather unnecessary._ Liara glanced up at the officer, disappointed to see that the turian was grinning smugly, arms crossed. He made no move to assist the fallen human. How unprofessional of him! Liara had thought C-Sec to be above such petty behavior. All the bitter turian did then was spit orders at the other turian officer sitting at the nearby desk terminal. Thankfully, this second turian seemed to share Liara's concern for the human, and showed an added bonus of disgust at his fellow officer's actions. It was a relief for Liara to see that not all C-Sec officers were as hateful as this newcomer.

"Pick her up and dust her off, Vakarian. Throw her in one of the holding cells. I'll be back soon, with two of her comrades in tow. We'll be trying all three for possession with intent to distribute."

When the officer left and the doors slid shut behind him, there was a tense moment of silence in the office. Then, the human spoke. "Asshole."

The human had instinctively turned as she'd fallen to let her shoulder take the brunt of the impact, and with the way she'd fallen Liara was able to get a good look at her face. Though human faces were still relatively new to her, she understood the aesthetics of symmetry enough to understand that this girl was reasonably appealing by human standards. She had a refined bone structure, a straight nose with pronounced cheekbones, but there was still the softness of youth to keep the edges of her profile safely out of harsh territory. She had those little arcs of hair that all humans had above their eyes (which Liara found incredibly odd), and the young asari caught the glint of metal near her ears (another part of human physiology Liara considered strange).

Liara wouldn't have minded if she'd been allowed to continue staring unabashedly, the human's face was pleasant to look at, but when the pair made eye contact from across the room Liara sucked in a breath. The human's eyes did not bore into her, they did not cut right through to her soul or anything dramatic like that, but there was something about them that instantly resonated with Liara. Though her cheek was smushed rather ungracefully into the cold metal of the floor there was no embarrassment, no discomfort in the human's eyes. Instead, there was defiance. A dare, almost. Those dark, alien irises did not ask for help, did not question why their owner was there on the floor.

 _Can I help you?_ That was all they asked. A sarcastic snap that would have been as readable up close as it was from across a room.

Instantly, Liara felt ashamed. She should help. Help the human up off the floor, at least. Her embarrassment only grew when the turian officer with blue affinity markings, Vakarian if Liara had heard correctly, beat her to the pass and rose to help the young human off the floor before Liara was even halfway out of her chair. "Damn you, Talid," Liara heard him mutter under his breath as he made his way over to the human. He crouched down next to her and paused awkwardly, seemingly unsure of where to grab her, before pulling her into a sitting position by her bound arms. "You seem awfully calm for someone accused of dealing Red Sand, kid."

The human narrowed her eyes at Vakarian, suspicious. "You and I both know I'm not dealing. You'd smell it on me. I may not know many turians, but I do know they can smell it on people. I also know they're a lot faster than I am on a good day. Running seemed stupid." She waggled her cuffs to emphasize her point. "Finch and Adams are just making it worse for themselves."

"Well yes, that's true." From there Vakarian brought the human to her feet. Despite her nasty tumble she did not waver. "But tell me something. You may not be dealing, but you are a Red. And Reds deal quite a bit of the stuff. Why get mixed up with them in the first place if you knew it was going to get you into trouble?" Vakarian asked dryly.

The human girl rolled her eyes, unfazed by the C-Sec uniform and glowing blue sentry visor staring her down. "Ever been to Earth? The Alliance doesn't take kindly to orphans until they're eighteen. By the time I hit that age, I couldn't exactly return the initiation tattoos."

Vakarian considered her words for a moment before nodding, mostly to himself. It was an answer he'd likely heard before. He then gestured towards the line of chairs that sat against the far wall, the same line of chairs that held a very uncomfortable asari scientist. His eyes passed over her briefly and, regardless of whether or not he sensed her discomfort, he escorted the human to a chair and waited for her to seat herself before returning to his desk. The human watched him go and called out to him before he'd even resumed typing whatever report he'd been working on. "Now you tell me something; shouldn't you be more inclined to believe your brother-in-arms before siding with some lowly gangbanger?"

Vakarian didn't miss a beat, didn't even look up from his terminal. "Talid is a racist prick that hates humans. He's also the reason I'll be stuck behind this desk for the next two weeks. On top of that, he's a terrible officer." He did pause then, and met the human's questioning gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched in what was almost a smile. "Talid was on patrol duty in the Spartan District today, which is where he found you, right? He was probably on his way back here when he caught sight of your colors and leapt at the chance to arrest some humans."

 _Colors?_ Liara's curiosity got the better of her. Liara chanced a glance at the human and sure enough, there was red and black ink marring the skin of the girl's right arm. The arm closest to Liara. The criminal implications of the symbol were lost on the asari, and besides she really was still much too far away to have gotten a decent enough look at it to find it's meaning on the extranet. With her face still turned towards the human, Liara risked another look at her face. She was relieved when eye contact was not made. The human was still looking towards Vakarian, allowing Liara to further study her face.

"So… if you can tell that I wasn't dealing is there any way you can-" the human began.

"Help get you off the hook? Unlikely. The last time I tried to call Talid out on his racist crap he reported me to our superiors and had me written up for insubordination. Two weeks behind a desk is quite enough, I'm not willing to risk four for a scrawny human even snippier than I am." Vakarian responded immediately, though he had stopped his typing to give the human his full attention.

"Fair enough," the human harrumphed. Her dark eyes began mapping out the room, possibly making note of feasible escape routes. Liara wasn't sure there'd be many, if any at all. When the human's head turned towards Liara the asari was quick to avert her eyes and return to her datapad. There was no way she was going to be able to pay attention to what was on the screen at this point, but the embarrassment tingling through her crest told her that getting caught staring would not be a pleasant experience.

Through her peripherals, she knew that the human was finally appraising her. She could feel the eyes watching her.

"Hey." The casual, one word greeting was still enough to elicit a small jump from Liara. Part of her dreaded meeting the human's gaze, not wanting to feel that accusatory, fiery glare directed at her again. She did however want to further study those dark irises, and she wasn't sure she was going to be able to do without the human noticing. Asari had bright eyes that matched their skin. Liara wasn't used to irises that almost seemed to blend into inky, black pupils. It was foreign, and captivating.

So with a deep, steadying breath Liara turned to greet the human with a shy smile. "Hello."

The human tilted her head, giving Liara a once over before nodding to herself and looking away. Liara blinked once, confusion narrowing her gaze. Was that it? _I thought that surely… was she not attempting to initiate conversation?_ Liara opened her mouth to speak again, but closed it when she realized she had no idea what to say. _Why am I even attempting to converse with a criminal?_ Reminding herself that the human, no matter how fascinating, was in fact a criminal allowed Liara to turn her attention back to her datapad. She resumed scrolling through the images she'd been sent, continuing to wonder about the meaning of the presence of "vigil" in the texts.

"Whatcha reading?"

Liara jumped again.

"Wow, you're jumpy," the human said with a chuckle. "I'm all the way over here. I'm not gonna bite."

"I'm sorry! I didn't, well I certainly didn't think that you would… that would be-"

The human started shaking her head, lips turned up at the corners. It made Liara pause. That was a smile, if she was correct. Why was she smiling? Should Liara smile back? When the human's eyes met Liara's again there was no trace of anger or mockery. They were bright and filled with mirth. "It's a human expression. I have no intention of actually biting you at this moment in time."

"At _this_ moment in time?" Liara asked nervously. The human stared blankly at her for a moment before Liara noticed the oddest thing. The round flesh of the human's cheeks actually changed color! Liara's eyes widened at the sight, wondering if it was natural for human flesh to turn even pinker than it normally was, and in such a concentrated area at that. "Are you… are you alright?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Yeah I'm fine. Just, ah… forget I said anything." Before Liara could inquire further or get a better look at her flushed cheeks, the human abruptly changed the subject. "What are you reading?"

Ah, familiar territory. _What a relief!_ Liara smiled and zoomed in to a particularly beautiful section of the etched stone. She then held up the datapad for the human's inspection. "Ancient Prothean text, actually. Though I'm afraid reading is a bit of an overstatement," she said sheepishly. When the human tilted her head again in that curious manner, Liara felt a pleasant warmth bloom in her chest. She wasn't sure if the action was intentional or not, but it certainly was appealing... at least when this human did it. The warmth in her chest emboldened her, and Liara continued on. "That's why I'm here you see, a friend of my mother's funded a dig on Eden Prime not too long ago… the human colony? I'm sure you've heard of it, although maybe I'm just assuming that because you're well, human. I hope you don't take that as an offense, I don't mean it to be."

The human shrugged her shoulders in a noncommittal way. "No offense taken."

"Oh good," Liara breathed out a sigh of relief.

"So… Prothean, huh?" Liara could tell just from the human's tone that she wasn't really interested, which caused Liara to deflate just a little. She was used to this however, the Protheans were valued mainly for the technology they left behind. Modern study of their history and extinction was not widely respected or valued, but that didn't matter to Liara. It was what she loved, what fascinated her. What _did_ matter was the fact that this human was at least trying to be interested. Not trying to appear interested, but really trying to be interested. She was even using her dark, inquisitive eyes to study the datapad Liara was still holding up. It only further encouraged the warmth in Liara's chest, which was (without her full comprehension) blooming in other parts of her body the longer she studied the human's fine features. Human skin was so fascinating to her; it was imperfect and unique to each human. Such varying colors! She knew that human skin betrayed age in a way that was completely unique to humans, and the concept of scarring was something asari were not familiar with. Asari skin molted when it was torn, remained as smooth as it was since the day they were born. Liara had heard of humans with scars as long as their limbs, as deep as the wounds they used to be.

This human didn't have anything quite so awful, but Liara did notice a fine white split in the hair above her right eye. _The eyebrow, I think it's called? What a funny word._

"What are reapers?"

Liara froze. Her mind went blank.

"…what?"

"Reapers," the human said matter-of-factly. She was looking at Liara now, her eyebrows drawing together, surely in response to the shock on Liara's face. Her voice grew nervous as her cheeks once again became darker. "…why are you looking at me like that?"

"I-I'm sorry…" Liara couldn't keep the shake out of her voice. "I'm afraid I don't… how should I know? Reapers? I've never heard of such a thing before."

The human looked confused for a moment, before coming to the incorrect conclusion that Liara was joking. "Very funny. No offense intended Doc but you're not a very good scientist if you've never even heard of what you're studying."

 _What? But I just told her I study the Protheans, what does she…_

The thought never had a chance to fully materialize before Liara tore her eyes away from the human, who was now sending confused glances Vakarian's way. He could only shrug in response, watching the whole exchange with an expression that for now seemed amused but was quite capable of turning into suspicion. Liara held the datapad in both of her hands now, staring down at the screen and waiting for something to click. All that stared back at her were the Prothean hieroglyphs, ancient, confusing.

Unreadable.

It clicked.

In an instant, Liara was up out of her chair and crossing the room. All the human had time to do was look up in mild terror as the asari came hurrying towards her, not the feared-for-your-life sort of terror but the kind you feel when your hundred-pound pet varren is barreling towards you at the end of a long day, ecstatic about your arrival.

"Can you read this?" Liara's voice was loud, incredulous. Her mind was attempting to process the situation and what it could mean for not just her research but the study of the Protheans themselves. "Right here, tell me what this means!" She shoved the datapad right under the human's nose, almost hitting her in the process, and ignored the look of panic the human sent the turian officer who was now standing up at his desk.

"Yes, yes I can read it! Can't you? You're the one that studies this shit, right?!" When Liara gave no answer, no indication of even hearing her questions the human acquiesced and looked to the datapad. "It says, ' _the reapers will destroy'_ and then… _'the vigil will endure'_ and…" Liara watched as the human's forehead creased and her dark eyes narrowed. "That's… weird. I could, I was able to-"

"What?" Liara cut her off, dumbfounded by this unprecedented occurrence.

"A second ago, that made sense. Now it just looks like a bunch of… kinda reminds me of the Egyptian pyramids. What're they called, hieroglyphs?" The human tried to scoot further back into her seat, away from the datapad. She flashed Liara a nervous smile, discomfort clear in her posture. "Weird shit, Doc. Do they always do that?"

"No." All forced signs of humor died on the human's face at the tone of wonder in Liara's voice. Her blue eyes were wide, staring at this bizarre, fascinating creature before her. She wasn't sure how, she wasn't sure why, but somehow this human was able to do something no scholar in the field would likely ever be capable of doing. "You can read Prothean." Her tone was awed, words airy with disbelief.

The weight of that statement was lost on the criminal, who continued to shoot the confused turian officer silent requests for assistance with her eyes. This asari was _very_ much in her personal space, and being from Earth she had little experience with being this close to anything that wasn't human. She wasn't sure if this was how all asari acted, or if this particular one was just slightly off her rocker. "And… you can't?" She tried, hoping that this was all just some weird dream sequence that she'd wake up from if she just played along.

"No one can!" Liara raised a hand. She reached out and traced the curve of the girl's cheekbone with her thumb, barely noticing the slight flinch it elicited. The human was warm, solid beneath her hand. Not an illusion. Not a dream. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, fire in her bloodstream. "There isn't a single person alive who can understand Prothean without reference and existing translations… except you. What's…" her voice cracked, so Liara cleared her throat and tried again. "What is your name?"

The human stared at her for a moment and Liara realized with some surprise that her irises were not a uniform color. Amazingly, there were streaks of green cutting through brown a few shades lighter than her hair, and Liara was instantly captivated by them. They were not friendly eyes, mistrustful and suspicious, but Liara still thought they were beautiful. So much brighter up close.

"It's Shepard. Jane Shepard. Shepard to you. Now could you kindly get out of my face?"

Liara flinched, wounded by the sharpness in Shepard's tone. But then she looked down, saw how she was very much on top of the human, practically in her lap. Her hand was still on the other girl's face as well. With a sharp intake of breath she flew backwards, dropping her datapad in the process. "I'm so sorry! Forgive me, I didn't realize I-"

"Dr. T'soni?"

"Yes?" Thanking the Goddess that someone had come to save her the embarrassment of having to continue her interaction with Shepard while shame boiled in her blood, Liara turned to the owner of the voice. When she realized who was addressing her, her jaw dropped. "...Spectre?"

Standing just a few feet away, waving away the enthusiastic salute he received from Vakarian, was Saren Arterius. Veteran of the First Contact War, the youngest individual to ever be granted Spectre status by the Citadel Council, a legend. And one of the deadliest creatures in the known world. _This is my mother's contact?_ His eyes were steely and his expression was a few degrees colder than neutral. "Is what I just heard true? This human can understand Prothean?" No one in the room missed the disdain in the Spectre's voice when the word 'human' passed his lips. Liara could only nod, frozen in place by his penetrating gaze. He regarded her silently for another moment. "I see. Vakarian?"

"Yes sir?" Vakarian stood even straighter if, that was possible.

"Fetch me the Executor. From what I understand, this human is a criminal. But if what Dr. T'Soni claims is true then she'll be of more use to me outside of prison than in it." Saren stepped forward, approaching Liara with calculated steps. "Your mother speaks quite highly of you, doctor, so I shall trust your judgement. If you deem the human necessary, say the word and I shall have her released under my authority."

Liara looked to Shepard, who was staring up at the Spectre with an even mixture of true fear and distrust in her multi-colored eyes. As famous as he was for his skill and flawless record, Saren was more famous still for his unarguable dislike for the human species. Shepard clearly knew what he was and what he was capable of doing to her if she incurred his wrath.

 _She can't go to prison,_ Liara knew in her heart. _She's a scientific wonder. I need to know how this is possible… but if she doesn't go to prison, where will she stay?_ That was a question Liara couldn't answer; she wasn't even sure what her own situation was going to be while she translated the etchings for Saren, neither the Spectre nor her mother had given her many details about the work. It was an uncomfortable feeling, having someone's fate placed in your hands. Especially a stranger's. How could Liara be expected to make such a decision? It may have seemed an obvious choice: tell the Spectre that Shepard was needed and keep her close… for research purposes of course. But what if Shepard wanted no part of it? She was surely already disturbed by not only Liara's inappropriate behavior but by the discovery of her new _talent,_ maybe it would be kinder to just leave her out of it and-

"Doctor." The Spectre's voice did not convey patience.

"Yes!" Liara panicked and answered before she was ready. The room was silent. "Yes," she continued in a meek voice, realizing that there was no going back. "She is… necessary."

"Very well. Vakarian, the Executor."

Liara heard Vakarian's answering "Yes, right away," and the heavy sound of Saren's footsteps as he left the asari and human alone to sit in tense silence. To distract herself from the weight of the situation, Liara leaned down to pick up the datapad she'd dropped. As she straightened, her eyes landed on the handcuffs keeping Shepard's hands bound. Then, after a moment, they found Shepard's.

If Liara had been expecting anything to be in that multi-colored stare, it was not something she received. The only word she could use to describe Shepard's gaze was wary. Shepard merely watched her carefully. There was no anger at having her fate taken into someone else's hands, no fear of the now-uncertain future, nor was there relief with the knowledge that she would not be going to prison. Liara knew from that stare that Shepard would reserve judgement for now, that she was perhaps as unwilling as Liara was to imagine the possible ramifications of this meeting. Liara was surprisingly grateful for that.

"I'm not sure if I should be thanking you or cursing you for this, Doc." Shepard finally murmured.

"I… am not certain which you should be doing either, Shepard." Liara responded shyly.

Eventually Shepard smiled, and in that very moment Liara knew that her life was about to take an interesting turn indeed.

* * *

 _'Allo all. Taking a break from my other works, beat all three Mass Effect games in the past month so now I have Mass Effect on the brain._

 _Deal with it._

 _-Cel_


	2. Chapter 2

**Executor Pallin's Office | C-Sec | Presidium Embassies | Citadel | September 7th 2174**

"So let me get this straight. You want me to release this human, a confirmed member of one of the worst red sand gangs in the Zakera Wards, just because she can help you translate some fancy pictures you found on a human colony?"

"No, I _expect_ you to follow orders. I am ordering this human's release, and you will respect my authority as Spectre and do it."

Liara watched the silent standoff between Executor Pallin and Saren the way an unfortunate stranger watches a lover's quarrel made public. It was amusing but oh-so-uncomfortable to witness. The only other turian in the room, the officer now formally (and fully) introduced as one Garrus Vakarian, was less than amused. He stood with his arms crossed and his weight resting on one leg, as though he was ready to flee the scene the moment this awkward 'meeting' was over. Saren had requested that Garrus join them for some reason that was as of yet unbeknownst to them all, and even though Liara could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation Garrus had been happy to have an excuse to leave the paperwork behind.

Standing in front of Garrus was Shepard, who seemed to be making a conscious effort to appear smaller than she actually was. In contrast to the tall turians surrounding her, it wasn't hard. And if she was trying to appear less threatening in the hope of bettering her chances for release, the heavy restraints locking her wrists together certainly helped.

Shepard had gone quiet after their little moment in the office, and had remained so during the meeting. Liara couldn't gauge what she was thinking, no matter how many sideways glances she gave the girl.

 _If she's from Earth it's likely that she hasn't had much experience with Citadel races,_ Liara pondered as she watched Shepard constantly shift her weight from one foot to the other, too uncomfortable to remain still. _None of this is going to leave a flattering first impression if that's the case. I can't begin to imagine what's going through her head right now. Even I'm having trouble processing all of this._

Liara knew very little about humans, and most of what she heard was little more than prejudiced tirades from turian mercs she'd met on digs. Oddly, the few humans she _had_ met on those very same digs were usually mild-mannered and respectful. Granted, all of those humans had been scientists. One had even taught her to play a song on the piano, though her initial lessons had been on a small keyboard made for travel. She knew however that most humans were not like those she'd met; scientists were a minority among humans, with most of their population being either merchants or military. They were more like turians than the turians were willing to admit, in her opinion. The two species even shared similar lifespans, remarkably short by asari standards. She'd often wondered if that was why they were so hotheaded, so short-tempered, because they didn't have years to spend weighing all the possible outcomes of every possible decision.

"Give me one good reason, other than your flashy title, why I should let a criminal walk around unchecked on my Citadel." Executor Pallin was clearly not budging, which surely would have gotten him in serious trouble if anyone other than Saren had been the Spectre demanding Shepard's release. Spectre authority was _supposed_ to be absolute. They were the Council's own squadron of secret police, granted the clearances to make any demands and issue any orders, expecting them to be followed without question. The Spectres only answered to the Council. If a Spectre asked you to jump and you weren't a Councilor (or another Spectre, Liara guessed), you were expected to ask how high. At least, in Council space you were. The lawless Terminus Systems? Not so much. But Executor Pallin and a few other key political figures often spoke out against the dangers of unchecked authority being given to such violent-minded, recklessly driven individuals. Their voices weren't particularly _heard_ by the Council, but they did exist. Pallin clearly gave no regard for the authority standing before him, and surprisingly Saren hadn't felt the need to call him out on his disrespect.

Indeed he must have been anticipating such a reaction, because his mandibles flared in a smug grin. "She won't be unchecked. She's even going to help you catch some real dealers, considering your own officers are incapable of doing it themselves. With an exception, of course..." Saren turned to Garrus, ignoring the surprise on everyone's faces at his matter-of-fact tone. "Vakarian, I did a little background check and as far as I can tell you're the only member of the Investigation Unit that's actually been able to crack down on red sand dealing in the Wards."

Garrus straightened up immediately, folding his arms behind his back. He offered a short, clipped "Sir," in response but Liara could hear the pride in his voice.

Saren gave Shepard a cold once-over before continuing. "You know as well as I do that this one isn't dealing, but as I understand it two of her comrades were able to evade capture. By using her as a decoy no less." Liara saw Shepard twitch in response, and it was clear from what she could see in the human's eyes that Shepard was thinking exactly what Liara was thinking. _How could he know that?_ Liara of course had the added question of _How exactly was she a decoy?_ Saren turned back to the Executor, his eyes narrowed in a challenge. "Release her and have her work with Vakarian to catch the real dealers. Think of it as a form of probation. She provides the intel, Vakarian goes back to doing _real_ police work, and you get all the glory. How's that sound?"

 _He must be very informed to know about Garrus' unfortunate probation,_ _and Shepard's capture!_ Liara thought. Clearly the rumors and stories about not just Saren, but Spectres in general, were true. Truly the best of the best. He'd only been in building for fifteen minutes and he already had the situation analyzed from every possible angle. It was clear from Saren's tone that there would be no room for argument, and Liara knew that there would be absolutely no real reason for Pallin to refuse. Clearly, from the distaste on Pallin's face, he knew that there was no way out of this either. If he refused, he would look uncooperative and spiteful. But on the other hand of course, acquiescing meant giving in to Spectre authority, the thought of which probably made Pallin furious.

Just when Pallin went to open his mouth to offer his response, Saren had even more to say. "And remember, if you feel like being difficult I have no issue contacting the Councilor. I'm sure he would be happy to remind you whose authority reigns supreme in this room."

The temperature in the room dropped a few a degrees, and Liara could almost swear she saw a shiver run down the length of Shepard's spine.

Pallin bristled, not afraid, but enraged by the comment. His words, when they made their way out from between clenched jaws, were as sharp as a razor's edge. "House arrest. She wears a tracer. If we don't catch at least five dealers by the end of next week, she goes to prison. There's no reason she can't help you with your _research_ from there." Before anyone had a chance to respond, Pallin stood so suddenly that his chair slammed against the back wall. Liara could feel the anger boiling beneath his skin as he strode past her, to the door to his office. He wrenched it open. "Now get out of my office."

Liara, Shepard, and Garrus all looked to Saren, too nervous to even move without his approval. They all knew that he held all the power in that room, despite Pallin's anger and bravado. Liara cast another glance towards Shepard, and still couldn't read what the girl was feeling. She'd have to ask her later, when they weren't surrounded by peacocking turians. But all of a sudden the thought of being alone with Shepard made her nervous for entirely new reasons.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Executor. I can assure you, I respect your authority and years of service. They're the only reason I'm not having you arrested for challenging Spectre authority." Saren said in a tone that was nothing less than respectful, his gray eyes glittering dangerously. Everyone in the room, including Pallin himself, shrank away from the cold mirth in the Spectre's voice. Saren turned to look at Liara, his cruel expression easing minutely. She shivered under his gaze. "Dr. T'Soni, we have things to discuss. Bring your new… _assistant,_ and come with me."

"Yes, sir." Liara failed to keep the stutter out of her voice.

"Vakarian, expect a full mission brief to hit your omni-tool later today. I expect nothing less than full success, and I'll give you everything you need to get it done." Saren seemed almost warm towards Garrus, perhaps as warm as a man hardened by war and firsthand experience of the worst the galaxy had to offer could manage.

"Yessir, thank you sir. I won't let you down." Garrus replied, tone professional but surprisingly curt.

"I know you won't." With that, Saren moved to exit the room, missing the suspicious glance Garrus gave to his back. Garrus' eyes then shifted to Shepard, and the two seemed to share a complex visual communication. Eventually Garrus nodded and gave the human a gentle push, guiding her to follow the Spectre.

"You'll be fine, kid. We'll keep you out of the can."

"No arguments here, officer. And, correct me if I'm wrong considering most of you turians look the same to me, but aren't you a little young to be calling me kid?"

"Depends. How old are you?" Garrus was both amused and genuinely curious.

"A lady never reveals her age, Officer Vakarian." Shepard grinned in an attempt to hide her discomfort and Liara couldn't keep the corners of her mouth from quirking up in a matching smile. It fell when Shepard attempted to flex her wrists and found herself incapable of doing so. The poor girl's wrists must have been aching, those cuffs looked terribly uncomfortable.

"Guess that means I get to keep calling you kid, doesn't it?" Ignoring Shepard's indignant retort, Garrus turned to Liara. "Dr. T'Soni," he nodded respectfully. "I suppose I should thank you."

"Thank me?" Liara questioned, brow scrunched in confusion. "Thank me for what?"

"Well if you hadn't gotten all… science-y on our new friend here then I'd still be stuck behind that desk for the next two weeks. Thanks to you, I'm back on duty."

"Oh…" Embarrassed by the reminder of her less than professional conduct in the office earlier that day, Liara wrung her hands together before responding. "Well, you're… most welcome. I'm glad that Shepard will have such a respectful handler in these upcoming weeks."

"Handler? Geez, way to make a girl feel like a show pony. I'm right here you know." The tone of Shepard's voice was only mildly one of amusement.

Liara's eyes widened in response and she held her hands up defensively. "I didn't mean it like that! This is all highly irregular, and I truly apologize but I really couldn't think of a more proper way to word it. 'Partner,' is a little too… familiar, and I-"

"Easy, Doc. I get what you meant. Don't have a heart attack." Shepard was looking at her now with mild suspicion, eyeing the young scientist up as if she'd come to the conclusion that the asari might be a little slow. Liara's embarrassment only grew. "Now, I may be wrong but shouldn't we be following the scary scaly man?"

"Turians don't have scales, kid." Garrus piped up as he followed them out. "Your word for it is carapace, I believe."

"Carapace?" Shepard's face scrunched up in disgust. "Sounds… crunchy. Gross."

 **Apartment 1470 |Tiberius Towers | Citadel | September 7th 2174**

Shepard was a distraction that was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore, Liara decided as she watched the human twitch impatiently while Garrus went about removing her restraints. When they were finally off Shepard sprang away and immediately put the lush, leather couch between herself and the pair of aliens watching her with surprised expressions. Her multi-colored eyes darted between them distrustfully. It had become clear that the humor Shepard displayed back in the Executor's office had been a defense mechanism, and her reserves of playful sarcasm were running low. Her discomfort as clear as day.

Considering the rather large (unnecessarily large) tracer strapped to her ankle, Liara supposed she couldn't blame the girl.

"This might seem rude of me to ask, Shepard, but… just how familiar are you with other species? You seem… rather uncomfortable around Officer Vakarian and myself."

"Just Garrus is fine, doctor." Garrus was now appraising the spacious apartment, Liara's new base of operations courtesy of Saren Arterius. They'd all been surprised when they'd shown up at the address Saren had provided only to find luxury apartment towers climbing the skyline before them. Liara definitely had questions, but they would have to wait until she was in contact with the Spectre again. After the showdown in Pallin's office, Saren had given most of his curt instructions to Garrus, pausing only briefly to tell Liara he would be expecting her at the Presidium Embassies in two days' time to go over what she'd be expected to do. Then he'd stalked off without a word or glance at couldn't help but wonder if the three of them had cut into a time slot he'd otherwise reserved to take down a criminal ring or assassinate a political rival to the turian Councilor.

As Garrus strolled through the living area, he was clearly impressed. Soldiers were used to cramped living quarters and footlockers for storage; he was likely unused to extravagance. Liara, being the only daughter of a revered matriarch, had seen it all before. She preferred simpler accommodations, herself. "Nice place," the officer whistled. "So this is how the other half lives."

Ignoring Garrus, Liara remained focused on Shepard, who was now giving Liara her full attention from her safe zone behind the couch.

"…this is my first time on the Citadel." Shepard eventually said. "I've lived on Earth my whole life. The only asari I'd ever seen are dancers and I won't even pretend that means I know anything about you. The two aliens we really get frequently on Earth are volus merchants and hannar preachers. Even then, they don't waste their time on the streets where the Reds operate. Too… violent, to put it bluntly."

"And what streets are those, exactly?" Garrus quipped from the kitchen he was now exploring.

"New York City. The used-to-be crown jewel of Earth before the country had a series of shitty leaders and the rest of the world managed to get it's shit together before we did." It was curious, Liara thought, how quickly humans identified themselves as belonging to abstract groups despite their innate drive for individuality. Liara didn't even really know what Shepard was talking about, barely knew how Earth politics operated, but she could hear an undertone of defensive pride for where she came from.

"So, you don't have much experience with other species at all, do you?" Liara continued, her spirits falling. What if Shepard never grew comfortable around her or any other scientists that would surely want to study her? Liara already had several viable tests in mind and she wanted very much to get her hands on the tablets that Saren had found so they could get started, but for some reason it seemed imperative that Shepard trusted her first. Maybe trust wasn't the right word, but it would be better if the human could at least learn that she didn't have to keep a ten foot distance between herself and anything that _wasn't_ human.

That would make translating the Prothean script a rather awkward affair. It was all too easy for Liara to picture herself shouting instructions across the room to a skittish human that (in Liara's worrying vision) had barricaded herself securely within a couch fort.

Liara didn't want for the two of them to have to tiptoe around each other, and even though it was obvious that she was very far from being any form of scholar Liara was certain that Shepard could learn to appreciate Liara's studies. Maybe she'd even enjoy it! That could at least begin to open the doors to further study of the galaxy and all its creatures. Haunting them in the background though was of course the fact that Executor Pallin had made it clear that Shepard wasn't out of the woods yet; she'd have to cooperate with at least Garrus to stay out of jail. And Liara _refused_ to let Shepard go to jail. Pallinhad made a fair enough point about Shepard being perfectly capable of working from a prison cell; Liara might not be able to put up enough of an argument if Saren got it in his head that jail _would_ be a more convenient place for her. Liara also felt bad for Shepard. The skittish human was being forced to get used to turians at a breakneck pace, especially for someone that had likely never even spoken to one before yesterday. But Liara's asari pride convinced her that if a human and turian could get along then a level-headed asari should have no trouble.

 _Even if that asari is a terribly awkward Prothean fanatic with a tendency to put her foot in her mouth,_ Liara thought.

Having reassured herself, Liara sent what she hoped was an encouraging smile Shepard's way. When the human didn't narrow her eyes or look for an escape route she considered the attempt a success. "Well, I promise that we mean you no harm. I have no intentions of trying to force any of my customs or beliefs onto you during this process. I simply want to understand how it is that you can understand what so many spend decades of study _trying_ to understand. And keeping you out of prison is just an added bonus!"

Shepard seemed to consider her words, eyeing Liara up and down. Her gaze lingered on Liara's crest, the unfamiliarity easy to spot. "Yeah, about that… remind me again what it is I'm supposed to be helping you do?"

"Of course!" Liara hurried to answer, booting up her datapad and pulling up the image that had started this entire affair. _'The vigil will endure.'_ Liara gazed at the screen for a moment, perhaps willing herself to gain Shepard's unique talent and learn to decipher the complex images. When no such revelation came to her, as she sadly expected, she returned her gaze to Shepard. "Should I… come to you? Or…"

When Shepard just blinked at her, Liara awkwardly gestured to the spot next to her on the couch.

"Oh," Shepard mumbled. "Um… no it's alright. I'll ah, I can come over there."

To Liara's disappointment Shepard did not take a seat but opted instead to stand behind Liara, resting her hands on the back of the couch and looking over the asari's shoulder. They were almost close enough to touch, almost but not quite. Shepard's shoulders were still stiff with tension, though she was clearly making an effort to appear somewhat comfortable. When a crash came from the kitchen Shepard's eyes narrowed and she shouted, "Hey, Vakarian! Try not to break the kitchen before I even get a chance to use it, will ya?" Garrus either didn't hear her or _chose_ not to hear her because another crash soon followed. Liara couldn't suppress a smile when she saw just the smallest fraction of the stiffness ease out of Shepard's posture as the human rolled her eyes. "Or just knock yourself out. I suppose that's fine too. So, Doc… what am I looking at?"

Liara figured she was better off letting Shepard get comfortable at her own pace, so instead of trying to maintain eye contact and work the datapad at the same time like an idiot she focused solely on the Prothean writing on the screen and let Shepard read over her shoulder.

The heat coming off the human's body was oddly comforting, anyway.

"I, like you, only recently came to the Citadel myself. I was asked to come here to help an old friend of my mother's, who turned out to be Saren Arterius himself. How exactly the two know each other is not knowledge I have access to, but I do know that Saren is incredibly fascinated with Prothean technology and history. He funded an expedition, his teams found these tablets, and now I've been tasked with translating them." Liara paused, and turned to give Shepard another reassuring smile. "Now with your help, of course… is everything alright, Shepard?"

Shepard was staring at her in an odd fashion, not quite intense enough to be concentrating but too hard to be simply curious.

"Is something wrong?" Liara continued, growing uncomfortable as Shepard continued to stare. Was it getting hot in here?

Asking a second time seemed to catch Shepard's attention though, for she blinked and refocused. "What? Sorry, I was… distracted."

"Distracted?" Liara repeated.

"Yes, distracted." Shepard's cheeks did that weird human thing where they changed colors again. Liara would have to do some research and find out if that was a common phenomenon. Shepard cut Liara off before she could ask any more questions. "Go on, I'm listening."

"Very well… so first I suppose you should focus on helping Garrus. I don't even want to imagine having to do this research with you from inside a prison cell, so it would be better to just do as we're asked and not raise Executor Pallin's ire."

"There's a 'we,' already, huh?" Shepard smirked, genuine amusement in her eyes.

Immediately Liara decided that it would be better to ignore Shepard's response, as well as any feelings that may have sparked in her chest at the words, and continue right along. "While you assist Garrus with his police work, I can set up a bit of a home base here in the apartment. The tablets are being held in a secure office at the Embassies, where I'll be able to communicate directly with Saren and keep him updated with regular reports. He's requested that our first communication take place in two days' time; he wants to be certain that I have all the proper clearances and that we'll have no trouble accessing the office..."

Shepard was trying to listen, really she was, but she'd never been this close to an asari before and Liara was rather distracting. Specifically, the back of her head was. The whole not having ears thing was already odd, but the weird tentacle, spine things were fascinating. Shepard could almost swear that they moved every now and then. Liara seemed sweet for sure, not what she'd imagined an asari being like at all. Granted, most of what she'd heard about asari came from the guys in the gang after a few rounds of tequila. A lot of what she'd heard would have made a marine blush, but frankly marines had nothing on orphaned mercs like her. Mercs did dirty work for half the pay and prestige, and led far more dangerous lives. They were desperate people that constantly had one of three things in their hands: a gun, a drink, or a lover.

Shepard had had her share of all three (though the third had never been quite as high on her list of priorities) but she'd never been brave enough to invite one of the few asari dancers that did stints in any number of the many dark, obnoxious Earth clubs her gang frequented into her bed. She saved that for the guys and the bolder of the girls, most of whom were absolutely obsessed with the pretty blue ladies afterwards and ended up leaving Earth to take more jobs in asari space.

Rumors of asari promiscuity and… _skill_ were known far and wide. But weren't they all girls? Did they even have the same... _parts?_ It had been way too much for a blushing sixteen year old Shepard, that was still technically too young to be in a bar, to ask of a voluptuous, teasing dancer in a skin-tight one-piece. She'd been more than happy to avoid them, shying far away from the poles and stages and sticking to the bar itself with her head ducked down into a cocktail. Looking at Liara though, studious and awkward, Shepard wondered if the rumors she'd grown up believing were really true. So far the only thing that had lived up to her faded memories was the skin color, just as vibrant a blue as she'd remembered it. She wasn't quite sure if she should call it skin though; from the way the lighting in the apartment reflected off of her Liara looked more like she was covered in fine scales, more like silk than snakeskin.

 _I wonder how it feels…_

Before she knew what she was doing Shepard was reaching her hand out.

Liara, oblivious, was still talking. "So perhaps once I've actually gotten to handle the tablets I could either take more detailed pictures or have full-sized holo-scans made to keep here for you to-" When Liara felt the slightest brush against her crests, a positively electric pulse shot down the length of her spine and her breath hitched. She flinched away from the touch and turned, wide-eyed, to find Shepard staring back at her with horror in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry! I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you!" Having taken a few steps back to give Liara space, Shepard hurried to explain herself. "I wast just curious and I know I should have asked before I invaded your personal space like a complete creep but I…"

The rest of Shepard's apology was lost on Liara, who was too busy trying to get a handle the erratic hum beneath her skin. "It's fine," she stammered out eventually. "As a scientist myself I completely understand the urge to, well… that is, I can certainly respect your initiative. There's plenty of things I find fascinating about you that I've yet to find the courage to…" she trailed off when she saw Shepard avert her eyes and tug at the collar of her shirt, a universal sign of embarrassment.

Despite the awkward tension clouding the air, it finally clicked what the bizarre color-changing skin phenomenon signified.

"Not you necessarily I mean!" Liara's mouth was running off on its own accord, clearly separate now from the sensible brain that was trying to regain control of the situation. "Humans in general are a fascinating species. Why do you only have hair on your heads, for example? And why do the males of your species have mammary glands when they never have to carry children?"

Now Shepard was running a hand through her hair self-consciously, still avoiding Liara's eyes and Liara wanted to run as far away as possible and go back to her dig sites and never have to interact with another creature for as long as she lived. And that damned _hum_ still hadn't gone away. If anything it was more insistent now that Shepard do the thing again because _Goddess_ had it felt nice. Liara sighed and put down the datapad so she could hide her face, more embarrassed than she'd ever been. _Well, except maybe for that one grad party I actually attended and spent learning about the immediate effects of ryncol,_ she reminded herself. "I am so sorry. I'm… not the best with words. Especially when I'm embarrassed."

"Why are _you_ embarrassed?" Shepard asked from somewhere behind her.

"Because what you did didn't necessarily hurt, it ah, actually… well, the opposite. Actually."

"The opposite?" Shepard sounded confused, and there was silence for a moment. "Oh."

More silence.

"Well…" Liara heard footsteps and when she looked up she saw Shepard seated on the coffee table in front of her. Tentative eye contact was made and Liara was relieved to see that Shepard's cheeks had returned to their normal color, which she supposed meant that the human was less embarrassed now. "Actually, humans do have hair all over their bodies."

Her scientific interest piqued, Liara was infinitely relieved to find herself back in comfortable territory. "Really?"

Shepard nodded. "Yep. It's just really fine. Well, in most places. It gets thicker in others. Guys get it on their faces. Women can too I guess but it's usually really sparse… or they're on some crazy hormone situation." Liara wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Her gaze dropped to Shepard's forearm, which was left exposed by her short-sleeved shirt. She could see the edges of the black and red gang tattoo, and her curiosity intensified. Shepard seemed to sense her question before Liara had the nerve to ask it and reached her hand out, palm up. "It's only fair," she shrugged when Liara flashed the girl a questioning look.

Human skin was not what Liara had been expecting it to be. It was warm, almost hot compared to asari skin. It was also softer than what she'd imagined, much softer. She was surprised to find that Shepard was right; humans were in fact covered in fine hairs that tickled when your fingers brushed over them. "Fascinating," Liara murmured, taking Shepard's hand into her own to run a finger over the odd markings on the human's palm. "And what are these?"

"Hmm? Oh, well I don't really think they have much of a purpose. They're just there. There is this thing called palm reading though, some people actually think they can read your future based solely on how the lines on your palm are shaped. "

"Some people?" Liara questioned as she traced her fingers up towards the tattoo on Shepard's forearm.

"Yep. It's not an actual science or anything like that, more like a… kind of folklore I guess." Shepard offered, trying to keep still. Liara's touch tickled.

Liara regarded the black ink permanently etched into Shepard's skin. Shepard explained that it was a graphic, stylized drawing of a human skull. A bright red 'X' on the forehead stood for the 10th Street Reds. Bright red shapes flitting around the eye sockets were birds, Shepard claimed. Liara would have to look this all up later. The tattoo wasn't terribly large, but it looked sinister now that Liara was finally able to get a good look at it... sinister in a manner that was somehow appealing? It was so alien to her that Liara was having a hard time deciphering her feelings. The concept of tattooing one's own skin with a permanent mark... and weren't they painful? Wasn't it basically intentionally scarring oneself? It was gruesome, but not completely unappealing. She brushed her thumb across the image, half-expecting it to be wiped away when she did so. Asari did not have tattoos, they lived too long to ever want to have something purposefully etched onto their skin that they might later regret. They were either born with facial markings or went without; permanence was not something the asari were comfortable with unless it was given to them at birth.

"Do you… will you go back to them after all this? That life?" Liara asked, voice soft.

"The Reds?" When Liara nodded Shepard shook her head, contemplative before she continued. "I really don't have any reason to. It was just a way to get by. If some semi-decent ink and shady weapons dealing meant a full stomach and a warm bed, then…" She trailed off with a half-hearted shrug, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. Her voice had grown small by the time she finally said "...it's hard to be an orphan on Earth." Liara could sense that there was more to the story, plenty of history that had helped shaped Shepard into what she was. She was infinitely curious about just what sort of crimes Shepard had committed, she had to admit. It would be... unwise of her to get attached to someone truly dangerous, after all. Red sand was a despicable trade, but neither Saren nor Garrus believed that Shepard had anything to do with it in specific. She'd mentioned weapons, and Liara knew that the black market was big on weapon mods. Had she been a weapons dealer? A smuggler?

Had she ever killed anyone?

If she hadn't, Liara would actually have her beat in that one category. Pirates and slavers frequently made homes on the remote planets she researched, and not all of them could be warded away with a fancy biotic display.

"Alright ladies," Garrus announced, having reappeared from the kitchen. "Just to be safe I made a quick sweep for bugs, you never know what sort of weird security measures these high-class landlords might have. I actually found one in the downstairs bathroom, you'll be disgusted to know."

Liara and Shepard both pulled faces at that announcement.

Garrus couldn't blame them. "Shepard, I'll be coming by to get you set up with a C-Sec grade omni-tool, yours was of course confiscated and will be pretty much torn apart by Talid when he finds out you're not going to rot in prison like he wanted. He'll try to find anything that'll connect you to red sand, but you're a smart girl so I don't think he'll be finding anything."

"Damn right he won't." Shepard went to cross her arms and realized that one of her hands was still being held. The pair made awkward eye contact one final time before Shepard pulled away and stood up. "If you get a chance, could you pull some stuff for me before he completely destroys it?"

"Sure, so long as it's not illegal."

"Are pictures of pets illegal?"

"You have a pet?" Garrus questioned, incredulous. "What, is it here on the Citadel wandering around somewhere looking for you?"

"No, he passed a couple months ago." Liara heard the sadness in Shepard's tone. "I just kept a few pictures and vids of him for keepsakes."

Garrus nodded. "Sure. Anything else?"

Shepard shook her head. "Nah."

 _That's it?_ Liara wondered. _All she has are some pictures of a lost pet?_ The thought was heartbreaking. She remembered Shepard saying that she'd grown up alone on the streets until she'd been snatched up by the Reds, a concept completely foreign to Liara. Asari were not a species with a particularly high population of orphans; it was almost unheard of for asari children to grow up without at least one of their biological parents. It was of course difficult if the mother was the parent lost, because the father might be of a species with short lifespans. Even then, someone else would take the child in, siblings or extended family. Did Shepard not have that? If Shepard lacked any familial relations that was sad enough, but what about friends? Surely there were people Shepard was close to, contact information she'd want saved?

"Well, then I guess that's that." Garrus' voice interrupted Liara's train of thought. "Oh, and by the way… someone broke your bathroom mirror."

The turian was out the door before Shepard even had a chance to yell at him. Once again, human and asari were alone together. The tension in the air had eased, but a new sense of awkward unfamiliarity had taken its place. The two were strangers, completely new to not only each other but each other's entire species.

As Liara would come to learn however, Shepard was incredibly good at easing tension.

"So…" she drawled. "What are we going to do about food?"

* * *

 _Liara is precious and Garrus is the best wingman. Next time on CotC: Detective Garrus and Doctor T'Soni start to work their magic._

 _-Cel_


	3. Chapter 3

Their first two days together weren't all that remarkable. Liara wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but reality had turned out to be rather boring. It had only taken her a matter of hours to convert the upstairs loft area into an open office of sorts, with monitors and datapads galore scattered across every available surface. Shepard didn't seem to mind; in fact she hadn't been upstairs more than once. That had been on their first day together. After Garrus had left, the two made a quick survey of the posh apartment and Shepard immediately decided that the smaller of the two downstairs bedrooms was hers. When asked why, the human had merely pointed to the punching bag and asked, _"I'm sorry, are you into kickboxing?"_ Liara might have been offended by the disbelief in Shepard's tone but when she realized that the human was serious and very seriously worried that she may have just insulted the asari, Liara had merely turned away to hide the giggle that slipped.

The two didn't bother to ask why the apartment had come furnished, content _not_ to wonder how Saren had come into possession of such an extravagant base on such short notice. From the very human piano on the first level, both were pretty sure that the steely-eyed Spectre hadn't done the decorating himself. And Spectres _were_ allowed to commandeer any resources they felt necessary...

Since then Liara had barely seen the girl, which was odd considering the open floor plan of the apartment. She suspected that Shepard was trying to avoid one-on-one contact as much as possible until she was more comfortable, not just for her own sake but for Liara's as well. In the few instances on the first day in which the two had been within touching distance, Shepard would tense up and then immediately wince apologetically. The human could tell it was a blow to Liara's self-confidence every time she flinched away from her, so rather than make them both uncomfortable Shepard had taken to just staying put in her room. If Liara ever saw her it was either in the kitchen or from afar, when she was making good use of the punching bag. Or the pull-up bar installed in the doorway between the closet and bedroom. Liara wasn't sure which one was more distracting, but she supposed it didn't matter so long as she wasn't caught staring… from all the way over in the living area.

With regards to the kitchen, Shepard spent most of her time there attempting to use asari ingredients to make human meals. It had taken less than twenty minutes for Liara to find an asari grocer nearby, but then Liara had spent two hours trying and failing to find a shop that supplied human food. The human population on the Citadel was still very sparse in most places, and what with the Tiberius Towers being a living complex for the rich and well-connected...

Suffice it to say that Shepard was on a pseudo-asari diet for the time being. And unfortunately for her, human cooking techniques were not translating well to the ingredients provided. Liara felt horrible about it, but she couldn't deny that it was both fascinating to watch Shepard cook and amusing to see (or hear from upstairs, which was the usual case) the results of the human's failed experiments.

Her favorite moment had actually occurred earlier that morning, when Shepard had been sitting cross-legged on the living room couch with a bowl of sliced vegetables for breakfast. When Liara had sincerely asked if vegetables were a common human breakfast food Shepard had practically whined like an infant that no, vegetables were not at all a typical breakfast, but they were "the only goddamn thing I've tried that hasn't ended up tasting like fish."

Liara knew that Shepard was getting restless though; all throughout the previous night Liara had woken to hear Shepard pacing or muttering to herself. The asari should have been unsettled, but in the five or so minutes it would take for Liara to fall back asleep she merely wondered what the human was saying.

As Liara finished up her own breakfast in the kitchen, she ran through her schedule for the day. Today would be her first time seeing the artifacts in person, and talking to Saren alone. She was excited for one of those things, nervous for the other. While she was doing that, Garrus would be coming by to set Shepard up with her new omni-tool and the two would start their police work. Hopefully Shepard would be fine on her own for a while, because once Liara got her hands on the tablets there was no telling how long she'd spend staring at them. She'd need to have them scanned so she could have a holo-model set up at the apartment for her and Shepard to use for the time being. Hopefully one day soon Shepard would earn the right to accompany her to the office where the tablets were held, but that would take quite a bit of success on Garrus' part and even more convincing on her part. Saren would probably always see a criminal when he looked at Shepard, and even if he could learn to look past that he would still just see another war-mongering human. She'd have to make it worth his while if she wanted to help Shepard get her freedom back.

 _I also have to pick her up some clothes…_ Liara remembered. _She's been wearing the same shirt and pants for the past three days, and I do know that humans sweat._

"Shepard?" Liara called out.

"What?" She heard the answering call come from the living area. Liara placed her dishes in the sink and walked out to see Shepard sitting upside down on the couch, feet sticking straight up in the air and with her head hanging off the seat. Bright blue eyes blinked in confusion. Shepard's only response to her silent question was, "My boredom manifests itself in weird ways."

She wasn't quite sure what to make of that explanation. Liara thought about sitting down but thought better of it; Shepard looked bizarrely comfortable and she didn't want to ruin that, especially since Liara was about to leave anyway. "Today's the day. I'll be going to the Embassies to speak with Saren."

"Holo-Saren, you mean."

"Yes, of course. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone… will you be alright here by yourself? Garrus will be coming by to begin working with you and once you have your new omni-tool you'll be able to reach me if you need anything. Today though, I'm afraid you'll be on your own."

Shepard merely shrugged. "Won't be the first time."

Liara's brow furrowed. Well that was a rather depressing sentiment. Shepard must have noticed her frown because she flashed Liara an upside down grin. "Ah, don't look at me like that. You're a scientist after all, I can't imagine the lab's much of a place for socializing."

Liara had to concede her point. "Actually, I normally operate on remote dig sites, alone. So, yes, I suppose I have to agree. Still, I just wanted to make sure you won't be… " _Lonely? Scared?_ Liara wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say or how to say it, and with Shepard staring at her with one eyebrow raised she decided to just change the subject and say her farewells before things got awkward. Well, more awkward. "Well. I suppose I'll be on my way."

Shepard raised one hand in a half-hearted wave. Her tattoo stood out starkly from the pale skin of her right forearm. "Have fun with Sergeant Spectre."

Liara wasn't quite sure how to respond to that so she ran her hands down the front of her lab coat instead, smoothing it out before giving a shy wave of her own. She left the apartment then, failing to resist the urge to look back. When the door shut behind her she let out a deep breath before starting on her journey. Before leaving the building she nodded and gave a pleasant greeting to the two asari working the lobby. She got an odd look here and there from the people walking past, but that was mainly because the only people up this early on the strip where hungover bar patrons that were just now making it back home. A bright-eyed, sober asari in work clothes was not a common sight on the strip unless it was lunchtime and the white collar business folk were out on about on social calls.

Liara ignored the looks but did take note of the fact that she might want to invest in some more appropriate attire for her new living situation. Everyone she passed was dressed in a manner that suggested they threw away money as a hobby. She still wasn't entirely sure why Saren had insisted they live where they did, it wasn't like there was a shortage of safe and efficient residency on the Citadel. The Tiberius Towers were only a short distance away from the Silversun Strip, which was a catwalk of casinos and clubs for the rich and influential. The Towers may have also been close to the Embassies, yes, but honestly it was relatively easy to get anywhere on the Citadel. There were skycar stands at every intersection. Proximity couldn't have been the reason.

She hailed one of those skycar once she'd finished convincing a disgruntled, drunken turian that she was in fact _not_ his bondmate and was on her way in no time at all. She probably could have walked to the Embassies if she wanted to, but figured she'd save that for when Shepard was allowed out of the house. She could take the human on a tour of the strip, and they could have a nice meal somewhere.

The thought made her smile.

The only other hiccup she faced on the way to the private office where she'd be working was the large krogan mercenary that was clearly not enjoying being questioned by the turian officer she needed to talk to. His armor was as red as blood and when he finally stormed off (practically barreling into her when he swung around to stomp away) Liara's eyes widened at the sight of the jagged scars marring his grizzled face.

"Move it, asari," the krogan had rumbled as he stormed past her.

The turian had apologized for the krogan, looking irritated but slightly shaken. Not that Liara could blame him. After checking in and confirming that she had the proper clearances she was on the elevator and up on her way to the office. As the elevator climbed up floor after floor, her excitement grew and grew. The Prothean artifacts were waiting for her, waiting to be translated, and waiting to spill their secrets. Her excitement was doubled with the knowledge that Shepard would make the translation process so much faster, and then once the initial translation itself was completed she could begin to test the depths of Shepard's skill. She wasn't quite sure that Prothean writing had an alphabet, from what most scientists had already discovered most of their text worked in a system of pictures much like the ancient human cultures of Egypt... but perhaps with Shepard's help the two could produce the galaxy's first ever Prothean dictionary of sorts. And, if Shepard could get a handle on her seemingly inherent knowledge, then there was a possibility that she could even learn to teach it to others. Teach Liara.

The prospects were thrilling.

By the time she stepped off the elevator, she had a huge smile on her face.

Her gait on the way to the office was a tad bit too fast to be called walking, and once she'd reached the sliding doors she tapped her foot impatiently while her biometrics were being scanned. Once the doors started to open she breezed through them way before the automated voice had even finished greeting her.

The tablets were more beautiful than she'd imagined, massive and imposing like most of the Prothean artifacts she'd both studied and uncovered. They were incredible. The visible carvings had perfect edges, almost laser-cut in their clarity… but the tablets themselves looked like they'd been put through a war. Pieces of them were completely blown away, other sections were cracked, and in some places they even looked like they'd been _burned._ They were also bigger than she'd been anticipating. Easily as wide as she was tall, and possibly taller than the Krogan she'd almost been trampled by minutes earlier.

When she first laid eyes on them her first instinct told her that she was looking at two separate tablets, but in the next moment she was within arm's reach and upon closer inspection she realized that it was in fact one massive tablet, split into two pieces. It was unlike anything she'd ever worked on before.

The halves were mounted on a table in the center of the room, and behind them was the vidcomm. Top-quality systems, the best of the best for the Council's own personal task force. She'd gotten to the office early on purpose so she'd have time to study the tablets before she had to speak with Saren, but she couldn't have been in the office for more than a minute before the blinking green light signaled an incoming call.

"Dr. T'Soni, a pleasure to see you again. As punctual as I expected."

Liara immediately shrank upon seeing the Spectre's image projected before her. She could _feel_ the unarguable power he possessed crawling across her skin, oppressive even though Saren was probably light-years away from the Citadel by now. Her enthusiasm for her work was momentarily shelved for a quick bow of her head. She almost felt the need to curtsy, his presence was so authoritative. "Of course," she began with a shaky voice. "I was eager to get started."

"As am I," he responded, tilting his head ever so slightly and eyeing her the way a bird of prey eyes a sparrow. Not stock from their typical sources of food, but easily introduced to the category. "I trust the human has not been difficult?"

"No, not at all!" Liara raised her hands defensively, feeling the need to protect Shepard despite the two obvious facts that she'd never hear what Saren might say about her _and_ of course the fact that Saren couldn't actually care less about the well-being of a human.

Practically everyone in the galaxy knew that Saren Arterius had never been the same after his brother was killed in the First Contact War. It was all a very hush-hush affair. Turians were suspicious during the best of times and rarely broadcasted their problems to other races, but Liara knew that humans had somehow been responsible for Desolas Arterius' death. No one outside the Hierarchy aside from Saren himself knew what had really happened; the rest of the world knew only that Desolas had been taken captive by human mercenaries, which made him a disgrace in the eyes of many of the other turian generals, and that Saren had been there when Desolas met his end at their hands. He'd been ruthless before then but when the humans, (in his mind) such a feeble, opportunistic race took something precious from him he came to despise everything about them. And the way the Council allowed them to force their way into galactic acceptance.

Liara supposed that she couldn't blame Saren for his prejudice; the loss of a loved one was nearly always a traumatic experience. It would be easy for anyone to lay blame to a scapegoat, let alone a cold, calculating, aggressor like Saren.

"She's behaved perfectly well." Liara continued. "Officer Vakarian is starting his investigation today, and I'm sure she'll be nothing less than cooperative."

"Of course. If she does cause you any trouble let me know. I wouldn't have minded letting her stay in prison, but when the Executor challenged my authority so blatantly I had to make a point. We'll let him have his consolation prize, and no more. I trust that if she's managed to cling to life this long, she'll be resourceful enough to accomplish the meager task set out for her." Liara winced at the lack of care in Saren's tone. So, he _had_ been furious with the Executor. And now he was using Shepard's freedom to make a point about his standing as Spectre. Oh, Goddess, what had she gotten herself into? "Now, tell me doctor..." Suddenly his voice was less dismissive and Liara straightened up. "In your professional opinion, why exactly is that creature able to understand Prothean?"

A valid question. She fought the urge to cringe at his word choice, and tried to answer as best she could. "I'm afraid I have no idea. Something like this, a person being able to understand Prothean, has never been recorded before. Most of what researchers in the field have accepted as translated is more akin to theory than an actual reading."

"So you have absolutely no idea how this is possible?"

Liara couldn't tell by his tone if he was surprised or disappointed, but she was instantly uncomfortable. Was he questioning her knowledge? She'd thought that he trusted her expertise, or at least that he trusted her mother's faith in her expertise. He'd said as much, earlier. But now he was looking at her like she was _supposed_ to have an answer for him, like it was expected of her... like he was going to be disappointed if there was none.

 _That's hardly fair,_ Liara thought to herself. _I haven't even gotten to run a single test yet, on Shepard or the tablets!_

"With all due respect, sir, I haven't exactly had the time to-"

"Of course, of course," he cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Run some tests, put her to work. You can tell me when you've reached some possible conclusions. For now, I'll leave you to the tablets. As you know the two were found on Eden Prime, and from what my ground team initially observed they seem to be related to the Prothean extinction. They were the only things found at the site still intact; among them were the ruins of what my scientists suspect was a bunker of some kind."

Liara nodded, mind already filing the information away for when she was alone and could _really_ focus on her work. "It's a large piece, the largest I've ever worked with. I agree about the extinction; before I even came into contact with Shepard I was able to recognize the symbol for 'vigil,' which is generally believed to be related to death."

"It?" Saren questioned, eyes narrowing. "There were two tablets recovered, doctor. Not one."

"I disagree." Liara's confidence was returning, now that for once she was the superior authority in the room. Prothean knowledge and study were her strengths, and despite Saren's intimidating aura she knew that she knew exactly what she was talking about. "The two pieces come from the same tablet; the only reason it is not immediately distinguishable is the crack down the center. It's irregular, which indicates that there is third piece that your team was not able to find."

Saren was taking her seriously now, she could tell. His eyes were focused on her they seemed impressed. "You know this for sure?"

"Yes. If you look here…" Liara returned her attention to the tablet and indicated the lower thirds of the pieces. Though charred and cracked and ragged, it was easy to tell that the two edges did indeed line up. At least to a point. "It's a clear fit despite the damage. The etchings on both pieces are also remarkably similar; if they were cut at different times the etchings on one piece would show signs of age, of which there are none. I'm fairly confident, even without translation, that they are two parts of one whole."

Saren regarded her silently for a moment before giving her the turian version of a crocodile grin. "I suppose I'll have to tell my team to look harder on their second trip." Liara fought the urge to preen under the indirect praise. Saren stood tall, folding his arms behind his back and nodding to her respectfully. "I expect weekly updates via the vidcomm here and daily updates via the secure connection we have via omni-tool. The tablets don't leave this room. I understand that this process will take time, so don't rush yourself trying to win my favor. I have matters of my own to attend to, so I expect we'll both be busy. It's perfectly acceptable if your updates are short. Any questions?" His tone suggested that anything less than such would be an annoyance at his expense.

Liara squared her shoulders and stood tall. She did have a few questions, any scientific mind would, but there was only one on her mind right now. "Why the Tiberius Towers? Being so close to the Silversun Strip, it's not exactly inconspicuous."

Saren's response was professional and immediate. "Hiding in plain sight, doctor. It's exactly because the Strip is so well-known and so popular among the entitled that it makes for a perfect cover. That does remind me, I want to make sure that we're on the same page. While you're here, you're not to breathe a word of this operation to anyone not directly involved. If anyone asks, firstly, tell me immediately. And secondly, your cover story has been provided by your mother: you're enjoying the Citadel's hospitality on behalf of Matriarch Benezia to take note of the way the asari are... presenting themselves to the rest of the galaxy."

Liara rolled her eyes. Somehow, she wasn't surprised that her oh so official cover story was to play babysitter to her own species. Make sure they weren't _embarrassing_ anybody back home. The asari were far too caught up on appearances, in her opinion. It was one of the many reasons she left home. "One more question, if I may?" Saren did not verbally respond, he merely continued to stare and raised a clawed hand, gesturing for her to get on with it. "What relevance do the Protheans have to you?" Liara asked.

Saren's answer sharp. "That is above your pay grade, doctor." Liara flinched at his angry tone, dropping her gaze to avoid his steely eyes. There was quiet in the room for a moment, the only noise being the gentle hum of the comm relay, before Saren's voice grew thoughtful. "For now. If you impress me, we'll see."

He tipped his head in a farewell gesture. When his image flickered out and Liara was left alone in the office, she let out a huge sigh of relief. The oppressive energy in the room was gone, and she was finally alone with the artifact. Saren was as aloof as she'd imagined, and his mysterious farewell was going to bother her for at least the rest of the day. With a shake of her head she tried to forget the implications of not just his abrupt departure. Something about the Spectre made her crest tingle, and not at all in a good way. Not in the way they did when Shepard-

 _Stop that train of thought at once._

* * *

Garrus was already at the apartment by the time Liara made it back. He was focused on his omni-tool, and when Liara looked to Shepard she realized that the human was doing the same. The two were seated almost a comfortable, friendly distance apart and Liara couldn't stop the dull sting of jealousy that rose in her chest. Of course, she didn't fully identify it as jealousy at first, merely confusion.

 _No offense to Garrus, but I'd like to think the asari are a tad more… familiar-looking than turians. At least our sclera is white!_ She thought to herself, mildly indignant.

But in the next instant the whir of the sliding doors closing caught both Shepard and Garrus' attention and the two looked up. When Shepard grinned, the ache in Liara's chest was replaced with a fluttering warmth and she couldn't help but return the gesture.

"Hey, Doc!" Shepard's voice was colored with more energy than it had been during the past two days collectively, and when she shot up from the couch Liara immediately understood why. "OG finally got me set up with an omni-tool!"

"…OG?" Liara questioned with amusement clear in her tone.

Shepard didn't bother to look up from her interface before responding, and Liara couldn't help but admire the way the bright orange light played off of the warm tones of the human's skin. "Officer Garrus. OG. Earth pun," she said as if Liara was just supposed to understand that it was something she _wouldn't_ understand even if Shepard took the time to explain. Before she had time to question Shepard further, the human was moving towards her and Liara fought the urge to back away. Not out of a desire to distance herself from Shepard, because that certainly wasn't what she wanted, but because why was Shepard coming so _close_ \- "Wanna be number two on my speed-dial?"

Shepard wasn't _that_ close, not really. If Liara was being honest with herself Shepard was a perfectly respectable distance away, but that was still the closest Shepard had gotten to her yet. She was within arm's reach, close enough for Liara to reach out and run a hand through the innumerable strands of hair that framed Shepard's face. Yet another thing Liara wanted to touch. "Speed-dial?" she asked instead.

"My way of asking for your contact info so I can annoy you at all hours of the day from the comfort of my room." Shepard was grinning again.

"Oh!" Now Liara understood. She shyly returned Shepard's smile and brought up her own interface. She sent out a request to connect with the closest omni-tool in the room, Shepard's she assumed, and was delighted to catch the pleased glint in the human's eyes once the connection was set. "So, how goes the police work?"

"Pretty good so far," Garrus finally spoke, answering for her. "Shepard and I have been mocking up some holograms of the two Reds that got away, her oh-so-charming comrades. What were their names again, kid?"

"Finch is the ugly one and Adams is also the ugly one."

Garrus snorted and typed away at his interface. "Helpful."

Liara smothered a giggle and politely brushed past Shepard to get herself something to drink. When she looked in the fridge and saw a box of unfamiliar cans she frowned. "…Shepard? Where did these cans come from?" She pulled one out of the box and inspected it, sure that it was some kind of liquid but absolutely clueless as to what kind. The design of the can itself was also foreign. She wasn't quite sure how she was supposed to open it.

"Oh, Garrus brought me those!" Shepard called from the living area, now once again seated next to Garrus. The officer in question nodded and explained that, if Shepard was anything like him, she'd need some kind of distraction to combat the stir-crazy that was sure to come during the next two weeks. Since target practice was out of the question, he figured alcohol was the next best thing.

"You'd be shocked by how many human kids think that just because they're in space they don't have to be of age to buy alcohol. If I brought you even half of the beer we confiscate from duct rats you'd have a full fridge. You're just lucky we can't drink the stuff, otherwise it'd all be right at home in our break room."

"What are duct rats again? I mean, the human drinking age is universally eighteen now, so how young do those kids have to be?" Shepard questioned, unfamiliar with Citadel terms.

While Garrus explained, Liara turned her attention back to the can. She wasn't much of a drinker, if she was anything in relation to alcohol she was a lightweight. She did know however that there was a basic rule to alcohol that went something like: the stronger the drink, the larger and or fancier the bottle. This can was relatively small, so surely this so-called "beer" couldn't have been too strong?

 _There's no harm in trying it…_ she mused.

After struggling with the tiny metal tab and having a mild bout of panic when the liquid inside started to fizz once the can was open, Liara held the can up to her nose for a quick sniff and immediately winced.

 _Well that smells rather unpleasant. I wonder if it tastes as bad as it…_

The moment the amber liquid touched her tongue Liara's eyes widened and she spat it out. Shepard and Garrus both immediately snapped their heads in her direction, surely concerned by the disgusted noise she made. Garrus continued to look concerned but Shepard immediately understood what had happened and immediately started to laugh.

"Not a fan of the beer there, Doc? Not fancy enough for you?"

"Fancy?" Liara gasped, mildly outraged by both the insinuation that she was _fancy_ and the aftertaste still lingering on her tongue. "It tastes like, like urine!"

Shepard rolled her eyes and stood up, and as she moved to the kitchen Garrus chuckled and turned back to his omni-tool. _I'm guessing the Good Doctor doesn't drink,_ he thought to himself. _T_ _hat'll_ _be a good tidbit to make use of later._

"Don't you dare waste that beer, Doc." Shepard quipped. She then snatched the can from Liara's hand, which was extended out as far as it would go to keep the offending liquid as far from the asari's person as possible. Liara then watched in horror as Shepard tilted her head back and took a long swig from the can that surely would've made Liara gag. The satisfied sigh the human released afterwards had Liara shaking her head in disbelief. "What?" Shepard questioned.

"I truly don't mean to offend you, Shepard-"

"You say that about a lot of thing and I've yet to be offended, Doc." Shepard cocked a brow in her direction, amused by the lingering disgust on Liara's face.

"Well then let me be frank: that was disgusting."

Shepard's shoulders shook with laughter once more and she took a less exaggerated sip from the can. Liara turned to retrieve a _proper_ drink from the fridge. "It's an acquired taste, even for certain humans." Shepard offered kindly.

"You can't tell me you honestly enjoy that, that…"

"I honestly enjoy that swill, yes. Reminds me of home: poor and hardy."

 _Why would you drink something that reminds you of how poor you are?_ Liara thought to herself. It seemed a rather self-deprecating practice. Rather than begin a conversation that could quickly become uncomfortable however, Liara sought instead to address another thing that had been slightly bothering her. "Yes well, I wanted to tell you that I really would prefer it if you used my name."

"…if this is some roundabout attempt at earning permission to use my first name it's not gonna work. As sweet as you are, my first name's off-limits."

Liara's brow furrowed. _And why is that, I wonder? What did she say it was again…? Jane? Who exactly is allowed to use that name?_ Before Liara could wander any further down that train of thought, Shepard's other comment finally reached her. _She thinks I'm sweet?_ She couldn't prevent the smile that grew on her face as she regarded Shepard's playfully suspicious gaze. "No, that's not what this is about. I would just prefer hearing my name as opposed to some generic nickname."

"…fine then. _Liara._ " Shepard tested out the word and Liara fought the pleasant shiver that wandered down her spine at the sound of it. Shepard's voice was rather appealing, husky but warm.

She of course had no idea that Shepard felt the exact same way about Liara's voice, minus the husky but with an added helping of velvety. The human could listen to Liara ramble on about Prothean whosits and whatsits for hours, and was actually looking forward to Garrus' departure so she could question Liara about her morning's adventure beyond the apartment.

"Yes, Shepard?"

The two stared each other down for a moment, a new measure of understanding between them… an added level of warmth.

Shepard ruined the moment however when she abruptly turned around and headed back into the living area. "You're distracting me from my police work." Her tone was sarcastic and Liara just shook her head, content to let the human go without more playful protest. Secretly she was just glad that Shepard seemed to finally be easing up around her and Garrus both. It probably had to do with the brand-new omni-tool and her new "job," helping Garrus track down her former partners.

Liara could only wonder how she must have felt about that. Was she feeling conflicted? Was she focusing more on the fact that doing so would keep her out of prison? Or was she actually thrilled that the police were going to be legally exacting her revenge for her? _Maybe, once I know we're at ease with each other, I'll ask her._

She followed Shepard back out into the living area, curious to see what exactly Garrus was doing. He seemed to be finalizing the holograms of Finch and Adams, and from what she could see the two men were mean-looking and nowhere near as appealing as Shepard was. Speaking of Shepard, rather than reclaiming her previous seat she'd taken up residence on the other couch, sipping at her foul beer. Liara took in how much room there was available, and debated for only a moment if she dared to test the levels of their familiarity.

She dared.

She gingerly sat herself down next to Shepard, a more than respectable distance away, and took a forcefully-casual sip of her own drink and waited for Shepard's reaction.

She'd anticipated the tensing of muscles, and was saddened to see the minute reaction in Shepard's shoulders. But what was new however, was the way Shepard raised her arms, stretching them out and then resting the arm that was not holding her beer along the back of the couch. It was a forced attempt to relax herself, not even remotely natural or casual, but the added slouch to her posture did in fact help to release the uncomfortable stiffness Liara's proximity had caused.

Any other asari might have been insulted, but Liara knew that unfamiliarity was not cured overnight. She knew that Shepard was trying. She also knew that she was content to wait for as long as Shepard needed to feel comfortable around her… maybe even enjoy being close to her.

* * *

It was early in the morning, so early it still felt like the night before. Garrus had left hours ago, promising that he'd be back again the next day to plan his first operation. According to his plans, Finch and Adams would be caught by the end of the week, and by that time he'd already have enough intel to catch the required number of dealers and then some. From what Liara had observed, Shepard made up for not dealing in Red Sand by knowing a _lot_ about the people that did deal it. It was almost alarming.

Once he'd gone, Shepard had asked Liara about her meeting with Saren. She hadn't been interested in Saren of course, she was moreso interested in the tablets and if they'd "lived up to expectations." Which they of course had. Then Shepard had tried to ask about what kind of tests Liara wanted to perform on her, making several dissection-themed test subject jokes at Liara's expense. It had all been in good fun, but Liara had been mortified all the same. Then Liara had managed the astounding feat of terrifying _herself_ when she'd attempted to "reassure" Shepard that she wasn't a test subject but a "promising specimen for an in-depth study." The only upside to the entire conversation was the fact that Shepard had spent enough time laughing to truly and finally relax around the asari.

It had been such a full day of exciting new prospects… the beginning of what she was sure was going to be an epic chapter of her life, and she was utterly unable to sleep. She tossed and turned in the silk sheets of the king-sized bed she still wasn't used to sleeping in. Rest just would not come to her. She'd already had a glass of water, already completed at least an hour of meditation, and still sleep eluded her. It was the frustrating form of insomnia that held sleep just out of reach. She may have been excited for the future, but not so excited that she was immune to her own drowsiness. She would linger just at the edge of blissful peace, almost at the brink of slumber, but then the slightest noise or shadow would stir her back to wakefulness.

One such shadow was especially distracting; it wouldn't stop moving and wasn't going away.

Groggy but curious, Liara rose from her bed and walked out onto the second-floor balcony, overlooking the first floor. The shadow was cast against the far wall, meaning that the light source must have been coming from within the apartment. The only windows that outside light might shine through were covered for the night. Liara's drowsiness slowed her thought process, but eventually she reached the conclusion that Shepard's omni-tool might be the cause. That would make sense: Shepard had been playing with the device on and off all day, and if the light was shining from her open room then the shadow cast on the far wall would have been weak but huge just as this one was.

She listened, waiting to hear a sign that Shepard was indeed the cause. What she heard woke her up in an instant.

"…like I said, Boss: I'm alright but I'm not going anywhere, C-Sec's got a tracer on me the size of… yeah. Five. Finch and Adams really fucked me when they used me as bait the second they saw the officer coming. They deserve it. Grim? I thought he was one of your best earners?"

Liara listened, straining to catch the faint words.

"Oh, fuck… seriously? Jackass. What? …no, they don't know yet. Haven't had a reason to show them."

 _Know what?_ Liara thought, bewildered. This didn't make sense! Shepard had sworn she was done with gang life, why would she be talking to… and that was another thing! How was Shepard talking to someone, _anyone,_ when she was using a C-Sec grade omni-tool with just two contacts?

"Yeah, I know the protocol. Why do you think I fucking called you? Exactly. Yeah, they've got me rooming with an asari. Can't tell you why."

Part of Liara was relieved that Shepard wasn't sharing the details of her research with this mysterious and surely criminal contact. A larger part of her was desperate to hear whatever else the human was going to say about her.

"Hah hah, very funny. No, she's not a dancer. She's a scientist, really sweet. Cute, too. I didn't know asari had freckles."

Liara brought a hand to her face, touching her cheek self-consciously at the mention of her birthmarks. What had Shepard called them? Freckles? _She finds me appealing… oh, I'd be thrilled right now if she wasn't doing something she's not supposed to!_

"Yeah? Well fuck you too. Look, I'm trying to be nice here. I never even wanted to leave Earth in the first place! You know that! If you have any other ideas then by all means, share. No? I didn't fucking think so. Shepard, out."

The shadow on the wall disappeared as Shepard ended the connection, and Liara was left stunned. She'd never expected this, for Shepard to somehow still be in communication with someone who was very clearly from the 10th Street Reds. What was she thinking! Liara wasn't sure if she should feel betrayed or angry; didn't Shepard see that she was only creating more opportunity to get herself into trouble? Didn't she realize that if she got caught, she'd most assuredly go to jail? And what was Liara supposed to do about this? She couldn't tell Saren, no. And what about Garrus? What would he do if he found out? Could she live with a secret like this? Could she fake a smile and interact with Garrus knowing that Shepard was still somewhat-in-league with her old gang?

And what was this secret Shepard was hiding? This… _thing_ she hadn't yet shown? It couldn't have been her knowledge of Prothean, she'd already shown Liara that. There were so many questions, so many things to think about, and if Liara had trouble falling asleep before there was absolutely no chance of it coming now.

But just then, a long, bone-weary sigh came from the first floor.

 _Shepard…. what am I going to do with you?_

Liara frowned and let out a sigh of her own, unsure what to make of both Shepard and the position she now found herself in.

* * *

 _Liara is sweet, Saren is surprisingly fun to wrte. Next time on CotC: who was Shepard talking to? What is her secret?_

 _Find out next time._

 _-Cel_


	4. Chapter 4

**Spectre Office | Citadel | September 15th 2174**

If Liara had at all intended to sweep the incriminating conversation she'd overheard under the rug, then she'd unfortunately succeeded. She'd had every intention of confronting Shepard regarding her actions the night before and demanding to know who Shepard had been in contact with, but when she'd made her way downstairs only to find Shepard asleep at the bar in the den next to a pile of empty beer cans, she just couldn't. All she'd been able to do was pray to the Goddess that the human didn't wake up when Liara draped a blanket from her bedroom over the girl's shoulders, then head straight for the embassy office.

It had been five days since then, and despite the sheer thrill of discovery that constantly thrummed under her skin while she studied the Prothean tablet, every few hours her brain reminded her that she'd need to address what she'd heard at _some_ point. She wasn't the kind of asari that could act against their feelings. She couldn't work with Shepard if she didn't trust her, and she couldn't bear to spend their association living under false pretenses. She didn't enjoy secrecies or lies or deceit. Every time Shepard sent a timid grin her way or discussed police work with Garrus, it felt false. Even worse, every shy smile Liara sent back felt like a lie.

She hadn't even bothered trying to get Shepard involved with her studies; she attributed that to the fact that Garrus was quickly running out of time to catch the last and final Red Sand dealer that would guarantee Shepard's freedom. In her heart though, she knew it was because she wouldn't be able to keep up a front convincing enough.

Luckily she'd been on a productive streak for the past few hours, and she was fairly pleased with her progress. She'd already built a proper 3D holomodel of what the tablet would have looked like if it was complete. It was so precise in fact that she'd been able to match up the halves of the broken glyphs from the sections where the two pieces had been connected to make whole images once again. It was still impossible to accurately fill in the glaring empty space where the third piece would have gone in the model, seeing as the third piece was the top third and could have ended in any number of shapes.

Saren had been pleased with the model nonetheless, even going so far as to admit that Liara had been absolutely correct about the tablets being parts of one whole.

She'd also been able to carbon-date the pieces and confirmed her initial suspicions that the tablet had been carved in the midst of the Prothean extinction. She'd even been able to ballpark the exact year, although she couldn't be sure because she wasn't exactly allowed to involve any of her colleagues and ask a second opinion. If her estimations were correct, then the tablet had been carved all at once, in a hurry, towards the very end of the Prothean's existence. The glyphs, while precise, were rushed. Only a trained eye like hers could spot the telltale signs, like the lines of images that seemed to suddenly cut off or extend past the edges of the stone.

If she had to guess, using what Shepard had initially translated along with her own knowledge of Prothean symbols, the tablet had been carved as a final testament, a last-ditch effort to preserve their existence. They knew they were being destroyed, quickly and surely, and that something called "reapers," were the ones responsible for it all.

' _The reapers will destroy.'_

What the reapers were, Liara had absolutely no clue. They could have been anything from another sentient species, to some sort of plague personified, even perhaps a series of natural disasters. She'd never heard of them before. In her studies, she'd seen the hints of a pattern… a race reaching the pinnacle of their existence suddenly wiped from the galaxy before another race rises up and the cycle continues. If the reapers were perhaps the cause of the extinctions, then it was imperative that she understand what they were.

The stasis pods Liara had originally wondered about from her first look at the glyphs must have been made in hopes to save at least a fraction of the Prothean population, and the presence of the Vigil glyph must have represented some sort of guardian or fail-safe security program.

It was all a lot of theory at this stage, and if she was going to learn anything for sure then she needed to start working with Shepard.

At that thought Liara sighed and began to massage her temples, wishing not for the first time that she'd never overheard the damned conversation at all.

"What do I even say to her?" she wondered aloud. "It's not like I can just walk up to her and demand to know what's going on."

She stood and began to pack up her things: her personal datapads, portable console, and the coffee she'd brought with her. A human scientist had introduced her to the stuff after many long nights spent working a dig site. While the asari certainly had stronger liquor than the humans, caffeine was something the humans held absolute supremacy over. Liara had had more than her fair share of early morning espresso after a sleepless night's work, and no other drink was able to put such pep in her step.

She'd have to eat something when she got home though… she couldn't remember if she'd done that yet today.

In no time at all Liara was making the leisurely walk back home, easing through the calm foot traffic that would surely be swelling as the hours passed and the time for revelry and gambling came about. She nodded politely to every person that looked her way or dared to send her a flirtatious grin but never paused to converse. She had very little interest in social interaction outside of her work, and was only slowly coming to terms with the knowledge that she'd probably always be eager for _any_ sort of interaction with Shepard… except for this one.

With the help of the confiscated beer Garrus would occasionally bring over, Shepard had truly started to loosen up and relax. She and Lara had even shared the loveseat in the den to watch a vid the other night, something random and human that Shepard had remembered and felt like watching on a whim. Liara hadn't paid much attention to it, too occupied with worry over Shepard's safety and resisting the urge to initiate physical contact.

She was sure that such an experience would be decidedly more pleasurable in the future when anxiety wasn't a solid rock in her abdomen.

Soon she was in the elevator and going up, and with every floor she passed the gnawing apprehension churning in her lower stomach chipped away at her courage.

 _Truly, what can I say?_ She wondered to herself, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. _'Hello Shepard, why yes I did have a lovely time at the office. Very productive, yes. Now, would you mind telling me who that was on your comm channel last week? How did I know you were communicating with someone? Oh, well I was eavesdropping of course.'_

Liara sighed and put a hand to her forehead, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. When the elevator dinged, signaling her arrival, she looked up and her inner monologue ceased.

Garrus was there in the apartment, unexpectedly, which wasn't _too_ shocking considering it wasn't the first time he'd shown up unannounced. His visits weren't always necessarily work-related either; two days ago he'd simply showed up with a bottle of some dextro-based liquor and spent the next few hours in the den with Shepard _gossiping_ about his co-workers. Shepard had returned the favor by sharing some of her more humorous memories from gang life back on earth, one involving a "tiger" getting free from its cage and mauling its "stuffed shirt of an owner,' during a robbery.

When Liara had looked up what exactly a tiger was, the beauty of the creature's pelt did nothing to change the fact that it had vicious-looking fangs and claws. Liara spent a good few minutes wondering about the dark nature of Shepard and Garrus' humor, recalling their raucous laughter.

She knew part of her bitterness over the event was jealousy. Shepard and Garrus had formed an instant rapport that she and Liara still lacked despite _living_ together. She tried to reason with herself that the two had lived somewhat more similar lifestyles than Shepard and she. Liara doubted that her privileged, scientific upbringing held any similarities to the bloody, conflict-ridden life that Shepard had led up until now. Liara had never held anything other than a basic pistol, but Garrus and Shepard could spend hours talking about mods and arguing about the usefulness of shotguns versus sniper rifles.

Speaking of guns… was that a pistol in Shepard's hands?

"What is going on here?" Liara demanded, stepping into the apartment with worry written all over her face. Shepard immediately looked up in her direction and _grinned_. Garrus was slower to react, tapping away at his interface, but he did raise his gaze for a moment to nod in her direction.

"Good to see you, doctor." His tone was its typical, half-detached half-amused purr.

"Hey roommate," Shepard was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, and she looked more alive than she had in all the time Liara had known her. "How was work?" She was wearing new clothes that Liara had bought for her, having thrown the old ones away all except for the black jacket that she seemed rather attached to. The clothes Liara had bought were asari-made and therefor rather form-fitting and… skin-exposing… but she had actually managed to find a pair of human-made boots that Shepard seemed rather comfortable in.

As Liara had come to learn, humans were breaking into several typically asari-dominated industries and fashion was one of them. Asari were not as… daring as humans were when it came to exploration. While they did live in extreme conditions by their own standards, there were few asari stubborn enough to climb, explore, and _live_ in environments that they knew could kill them. At the base of an active volcano, for example. Humans, on the other hand, were incredibly stubborn. That stubbornness had paid off when they finally made it to space; ingenuity in human fashion was leaps and bounds ahead of a number of other species. They'd invented coats that doubled as insulated sleeping bags and somehow still managed to look _flattering_ on a person. Asari fashion designers had no idea _how_ they did it.

As a result, many asari supply chains had begun carrying human active-wear materials despite loudly proclaimed prejudices, and it was in one of these stores that she'd been able to find the boots. She'd even debated getting herself a pair.

"Guess what?" Shepard had holstered her gun, but Liara still eyed it wearily. If she wasn't mistaken it was just a regular, C-Sec grade Predator model, accurate but not particularly powerful. She supposed that Garrus couldn't be giving criminals anything too dangerous, even if they were technically on his side.

"What?" she asked warily.

The corner of Shepard's mouth quirked up in a smirk as she answered, "House arrest is officially over. We're going mule hunting."

"…pardon?" Liara looked at her, absolutely confused. The house arrest was being lifted? That was wonderful news, but Garrus still had one drug dealer to catch. Pallin had been very clear that Shepard would have more hoops to jump through if his demands weren't met, and… she looked at the pistol on Shepard's hip once more and it sunk in. "Wait, you mean-"

"I have to borrow Shepard for a while, doctor." Garrus made one last _click_ on his interface and a low hiss came from the floor between Shepard and Liara. When Liara looked down and saw the obnoxiously large tracker drop off from Shepard'a ankle, the reality of what was about to happen sunk in.

"You're taking her with you?" she gasped, mildly outraged. "Won't that be dangerous?"

Shepard glanced her way, amusement bright in her eyes. "What, think I've forgotten how to shoot, Doc?"

Liara's brow furrowed, defensive. "I'd rather not have to think about you shooting at all, honestly." Before Shepard could retort Liara stepped past her and marched straight up to Garrus. "Don't you think using Shepard to catch one of her former gang members might be risky? What if word gets back to her _boss?"_ She fought to keep the hiss out of her voice on the last word, knowing full well that Shepard was already in contact with someone she probably shouldn't have been talking to; the last thing Liara needed was the human stirring up more trouble for herself. "Why do you need her?"

Garrus had his eyes narrowed down at her, and she still wasn't very good at reading turian facial expressions but he almost looked surprised. "Doctor, if I didn't think I needed her to pull this off I wouldn't be bringing her. Good with a gun or not," he paused to shoot Shepard a challenging, sharp-toothed grin, "which still remains to be seen, I don't like civilians tagging along. Even undercover ones. Besides, the only way her boss will find out is if we screw up, which I don't do."

 _Well he sounds fairly confident,_ Liara mused. _I hope that doesn't come back to bite him, or Shepard._

Liara glanced back to Shepard, who had shifted to stand with her arms crossed and her hip cocked. Before she could let her eyes wander and admire the view, she turned back to Garrus. "Fine. But I'm coming too. Even if it's just to watch."

 _Displeasure_ was an emotion that was universal to any race with facial features, and Garrus was displaying it now. "Doctor, I really don't think that's a good idea. From what Shepard's told me, this guy Grim? He has a thing for asari. An... I-don't-take-no-for-an-answer kind of thing. And he's a slippery bastard too, dangerous. I've barely been able to catch him on security feeds down in the wards, so I'm already relying on Shepard more than I'd like to."

"I warned you he'd be a pain in the ass," Shepard said. "I actually had to shoot him once, on a job we ran together."

Liara and Garrus both turned to flash her surprised looks, and she just shrugged in response. "It was just the arm. We were in a bar trying to move some stolen mods and _he_ was too busy trying to chat up some asari dancer to realize the cops had shown up. I fired up at the ceiling, to get the crowd stirred up y'know? Idiot actually thought we were gonna stay for the bar fight so I had to shoot _him_ to convince him to bail. His head's screwed on so crooked that he found the whole thing hilarious, and I've been one of his favorites ever since."

"Favorites?" Liara questioned, bristling slightly at the thought of such a character being anywhere close to Shepard.

"To do jobs with," the human replied. "I also never tried to steal his dates."

"Is that a common human phenomenon?" Garrus droned, amused once more. Human promiscuity was quickly becoming almost as famous as rumors of asari promiscuity, particularly among males. When Shepard rolled her eyes Garrus chuckled.

"With guys it certainly is. If they think at all it's certainly not with their brains."

Liara crinkled her nose in displeasure, but after hearing what the two gunmen had to say she'd had an idea. "Alright, well if what you say is true then I should absolutely 'tag along.' If you're worried he might slip away, wouldn't it be sensible to bring along some… insurance?" Now Garrus was looking at her curiously, understanding dawning in his icy blue irises. Shepard on the other hand, was now looking at her with concern in her eyes. Liara met her stare evenly, nervous but unwilling to sit out a mission that, if failed, could have disastrous results for both her research and Shepard's wellbeing.

When exactly Shepard's wellbeing had become one of her chief concerns was a mystery… and she wasn't sure it all had to do with the girl's value as a subject of study.

"Wait, are you volunteering yourself as bait?" Shepard asked, incredulous. Her eyebrows had drawn together, narrowing her gaze into one that was both irritated and worried in the same instant.

"Do you have any other asari friends I should know about?" Liara tried to joke, her smile faltering slightly when Shepard's gaze did not soften.

"You know, she might be onto something." Garrus mused, raising a talon-studded hand to his chin. "If she goes with you, she'd probably keep him distracted. What's the angle, though?"

"Angle? Whoa, whoa. We already had a plan, remember?" Shepard seemed more than concerned now, stepping forward and standing at Liara's side. Liara could see the flecks of green in her irises, sparkling as they caught the artificial light in the room.

"Perhaps I'm interested in getting in on the ground floor," Liara began, unable to fight back a teasing grin when Shepard turned to her with surprise and slightly miffed betrayal in her eyes. "As a scientist, I'm sure there are ways I could… improve Red Sand. Make it less deadly, more addictive? Earn him more credits on the side?"

Garrus let out a short bark of laughter. "That's good! Better than Shepard's plan, easily. So what would your terms be?"

Liara looked to Shepard for the answer, and when the human realized there was no way talking the two aliens back into sense she sighed.

 **Pandora's Box | Citadel | September 15th 2174**

"I still think 25 percent is too much, Shepard." Liara whispered nervously, eyes darting around the club and taking note of each deplorable activity she witnessed. There was a human pickpocketing another human who'd passed out at the bar, a few asari dancers cornering a young male that looked about ready to pass out, a _vorcha_ of all things playing darts with a heavily-tattooed man. All the while, lights flashed and heart-pounding music thundered around her, the heavy base hammering through her bones.

Human clubs were _awful._

Sadly, Shepard seemed in her element here. She kept her eyes straight ahead, chin raised, and even had her hand resting protectively at the small of Liara's back. The human had chugged a few beers before they'd all left the apartment, to "help her play the part," she claimed. Liara thought it might have also been to calm her nerves. Shepard clearly hadn't worked on a team in a while, and needed constant reminders to update Garrus on their process. He hadn't been able to follow them into the ward, knowing that C-Sec officers were unwelcome in the more heavily human-populated areas of the Citadel. He was waiting somewhere up in the maintenance bridges, prepping his Mantis rifle for a clean incapacitating shot to keep Grim down for transport back to C-Sec.

Grim frequented this bar, Pandora's Box, and could predictably wander in (already drunk) pretty much every night. He met with a few different people, all dealers or distributors in the trade according to Garrus, then left. Usually with a dancer attached to his hip.

Shepard knew that if she showed up somewhere she knew he frequented, he'd come to her. He liked her and knew she was a good earner. When he approached Shepard, the plan was to introduce Liara as one of Shepard's "contacts," and the two would talk. Liara would play the role of not-so-innocent asari maiden and keep Grim interested, while Shepard remained in the background and kept an eye out for trouble.

The next phase, which Liara was not at all excited for, would be to lure Grim out of the wards. If she could play her role convincingly enough then Grim would be on her like a varren on a pyjak, and hopefully Shepard would have slipped him enough drinks to get him nice and incoherent. As soon as they were out of the wards Garrus would be waiting with his Mantis, take his shot, and they'd have Shepard's release secured.

They'd been in the club for five minutes and Liara already couldn't wait to be home.

"Shepard," Liara murmured. "I don't like this place."

Somehow, over the pounding bass and riotous background noise, Shepard heard her. Her hand became more solid against Liara's skin and she pulled Liara in close to her side. "Hey, I didn't want you coming here in the first place." Hazel eyes (Liara had finally looked up the proper word for the human's multi-colored gaze) glanced her way, soft but fierce: a warning to anyone else but a sign of comfort to Liara. "But I have to admit, the plan's a good one."

The grin on Shepard's face reassured her, but she took advantage of Shepard's protectiveness to tuck in closer to Shepard's side and enjoy the physical contact. "I also wanted to tell you… there's something I wanted to talk to you about when we get home."

Shepard hummed an affirmative, but they'd finally pushed their way through the crowd and made it to the bar. Instead of taking a seat herself, Shepard gestured for Liara to sit and simply stood guard at her side, creating a physical barrier between Liara and the men seated adjacently. When one of them, mean-looking, with a hooked nose and graying teeth, sent an appraising look her way Shepard practically growled. After a silent stare-off the man eventually turned back to his fellows with an insulted sniff.

Shepard waved one of the bartenders over and ordered Liara some fruity human drink that was a pretty mixture of reds and oranges when it arrived.

"So, Doc…" Shepard waited for Liara to take a tentative sip of her drink, but considering how weak human liquor was in comparison to asari liquor Liara wasn't worried about taste. "You sure you're gonna be okay to do this?"

Liara nodded. Now that they were seated at the bar, where most of the tamer patrons seemed to gravitate, she supposed that the club wasn't so terrible. Yes it was loud, smelled musty, and was poorly lit but she didn't feel nearly as on edge as she had when they'd first walked in.

 _Of course, that might just be my bodyguard's doing,_ she thought to herself. If she had anything to be happy about in this situation, it was that Shepard's sudden protective nature had seemed to fend off the last dregs of the human's discomfort. She now stood as close to Liara as she would any other friend she might wish to protect… possibly even closer.

"I may not be comfortable with it, but if it helps you then I'm happy to assist." Liara admitted, voice soft.

Deep blue met bright hazel, and when Liara smiled up at Shepard the human blushed and looked away. She rolled her shoulders like she was trying to shrug off the indirect admission of affection and scanned the bar. "Well," she began, "all we have to do now is wait."

"Indeed. So, what does this Grim look like?"

Shepard shrugged her shoulders once more, turning her attention back to Liara. "Black hair, kinda shaggy. Usually thinks he's too toned for sleeves, so you'll be able to see his tattoo right away." Liara glanced down at the arm Shepard had braced against the bar. Her human didn't seem to be much of a fan of sleeves either, for Shepard's were rolled up to the elbows and her gang tattoo was exposed as well. Before Liara could stop herself she was brushing Shepard's forearm with her fingertips, admiring the glow the club lights cast on the human's skin. "He's got creepy grey eyes, too. Really pale… and he normally carries his Tempest with him. It's his favorite gun."

Tempests were submachine guns, if Liara recalled correctly. They had a lot of fire power but were extremely inaccurate. They were better for cover fire than actual offense, the perfect gun for someone looking to make an escape and not a kill.

Liara made one last sweep of the bar and froze. "Shepard," she whispered. When Shepard glanced at her she nodded in the direction of the entrance before turning back to the bar and picking up her drink. She had to play the part, after all. All too soon she felt Shepard tense beside her, and soon an arm draped itself across the back of her chair, an even bolder declaration of Shepard's protectiveness.

"Shepard?" Grim's voice was harsh and oily, like he'd spent his entire life inhaling exhaust fumes from an antique skycar that needed an oil change. "You bitch, I thought you got popped!"

The ease with which Shepard slipped into her persona gave Liara chills. "Grim, you shady fucker! I knew I'd find you here. Knew I had to see you once I'd finally gotten settled in."

"So you finally made it off the Big Blue, huh? Took you long enough! It's been what, four months? Come on, you know the drill. Jager, on me, let's go." Out of the corner of her eye, Liara saw a man swing an arm around Shepard's shoulders and bang his fist down on the bartop. "Barkeep, jager bombs! And make it snappy, we've got a reunion to celebrate!"

"Hasn't your liver gotten sick of your shit yet?" Shepard's grin was no longer warm and amused the way it was when it was directed at Liara. Now it was harsh and the warmth was gone. It was a sarcastic sort of camaraderie. But the arm Shepard had draped across the back of Liara's chair still radiated security and Liara found herself leaning back into the warmth of it.

When Grim laughed, Liara cringed. "I'll be dead long before it ever catches up with me, no worries. It's endurance training for the afterlife, sweet cheeks."

"Call me sweet cheeks again and I'll shoot you in your other arm." The bartender had come back with four glasses, two small and two tall. Liara caught a whiff of the darker liquid and crinkled her nose in distaste. Grim released Shepard, to Liara's relief, and then to her surprise the two humans dropped the shorter glasses into their taller glasses, then chugged down both together. How bizarre. When both were done Grim let out a content sigh and thumped the glass back down onto the bar. The smaller shot glass clinked as it got knocked around, blackish liquid still pooled at it's base. Shepard gave Grim a nudge. "There's someone I want you to meet."

Grim finally looked her way and the greasy grin he sent her made Liara's crest itch in a manner most unpleasant. "Well hello there, pretty young thing."

She forced a smile and raised her glass to him ever so slightly. "Evening, sir."

When his grin widened and he stepped farther into Shepard's personal space to get closer to her, Liara fought back a possessive bristle. Instinct told her to get this creature away from Shepard, and despite Liara's tame nature she was having trouble ignoring it. But she managed, somehow. "So formal," Grim said. He extended a hand towards her, and when she placed her hand in his he gripped it firmly and brought it to his lips for what he surely thought was a charming show of chivalry. "Name's Grim, my sweet. How do you know Shepard?"

Despite the disgust she felt on the inside, Liara schooled her features to into an aloof but interested smile, eyeing him up and watching him preen under her scrutiny. "We are… acquaintances. She told me you might be able to help me with a little research I've been interested in undertaking."

Shepard gave Grim a wink and stepped back, removing herself as a barrier between the two and the man immediately came to stand practically on top of her. "The Good Doctor here has some ideas that might make your side job a full-time show. Why don't I leave you two alone while I hustle us up some bottle service?"

Grim flashed Shepard a wicked, toothy grin and bumped fists with her before she let her slip away. Even though Liara knew that had been the plan, she dreaded seeing Shepard go.

Even though the view alone might have been worth it…

As she watched Shepard go, gaze going south, there was a slick chuckle somewhere from behind her. "I see I'm not the only one with a soft spot for Shep, huh Doctor?"

"Hmm?" Liara hummed distractedly then realized exactly which part of Shepard's physique she was admiring. Heat flushed through her, embarrassment and _other_ feelings in equal measure. She tore her gaze away, turning back to Grim. _Oh my, Shepard was right his eyes_ are _pale._

She'd met a handful of handsome turians with grey irises but the color was not flattering on humans, especially considering the whites of their eyes. Then again, maybe it was just this particular human that seemed to enjoy working the look of "pale and ghastly."

"Of course, I'd say the view here in front of me is far more enticing than the view walking away. But Shepard and I are old friends, can't deny how good it is to see her. And seeing her making such appealing _new_ friends..." he trailed off in an attempt at coyness. "What man could say no to that? I almost feel like a proud older brother." Liara made sure to chuckle demurely, switching into the role of promiscuous seductress which was a persona she was not at all comfortable in. She was sure that any asari in the world could have done a better job. Her mother would have been proud to see the attempt, though. Grim leaned in closer, draping his arm across the back of her chair like Shepard had just moments ago and even daring to rest a foot on one of the lower support bars of her chair. "So, doctor… what can I do for you?"

Liara made sure to avoid any trigger words, the incriminating sort, but got straight to the issue. "I'm interested in making improvements to a certain… performance enhancer that would not only bring more benefits to the buyer, but ensure more long-term profit for the provider."

Grey eyes searched hers for any sign of falsehood before turning back to the barkeep. "Yo, asswipe. Casa Dragones. Two. Extra lime." He turned back to her, the pleasant grin on his face deceptively sinister. A scar tugged at his upper lip, another dragging at his sallow cheek. "Keep talking."

She leaned in as well, daring even to trail a hand up to his shoulder, pretending to admire his physique. She nearly gagged when he flexed beneath her hands. "Well… I might have found a way to ease the drug's more lethal side effects, and I'm working on a way to eradicate the ones that get you caught completely." Shepard had given her a brief rundown of Red Sand's most dangerous side effects, and better yet Garrus was able to provide a list of tells that C-Sec used to identify users.

"No more shakes, huh?" Grim sounded intrigued, and when the bartender returned with two shot glasses, each garnished with a salt rock rim and two slices of a strange green fruit. Grim asked if she knew how tequila worked, and to play the part she batted her eyelashes and asked if he could teach her. His sick grin grew and she watched through forcibly-lidded eyes as he threw back the shot and bit into the lime wedge.

He gestured for her to do the same, and was surprised to find that this form of human liquor almost had as bad a bite as ryncol. Ryncol's younger sibling, perhaps. The bitter, burning taste was driven away by the sweet tang of the fruit but she almost broke character when Grim raised a hand to her face to brush away the salt that had remained at the corner of her mouth. She tried to hide her disgust and wiped at her face with a napkin while he ordered himself another two shots.

She wished, more than anything, that Shepard was with her once again.

* * *

Shepard was antsy. She was watching the entire affair with crossed arms and narrowed eyes. Three different guys had approached her with a drink in each hand, and with grace she'd accepted each one before sending them on her way and now she was feeling a little tipsy and irritated. Thank the lord that they'd all brought beer, she wasn't sure her stomach could have handled anything else.

If Grim tried to touch Liara _one more time_ she was breaking character and punching him square in the fucking jaw. That creep was no good, and she couldn't wait to see him thrown in jail. They'd almost been friends once, but that was a long time ago and she'd seen him screw then chew out too many nice girls for her to be okay with seeing it happen to Liara. She was still a little miffed with the asari for thinking that she had to come along and "protect," her, but Shepard had to admit Liara's plan had been a lot better than just simply showing up and trying to rekindle the old gangbanger friendship. The quirky asari was also doing a much better acting job than Shepard had predicted she would.

" _Shepard, how's she doing?"_ Garrus' voice buzzed in her ear.

She raised a hand to the communicator and tried to keep her voice even when she replied. "She's doing good. Waiting for the signal," she whispered. Casting a glance around the bar, Pandora's Box reminded her of every single bar back home that reminded her of every single frat party she'd crashed when she was younger. It was hot, sweaty, and filled with drugs and hormones.

" _Good, remember where the meetup is and be aloof when you're steering him. Let Liara work him and we should be alright."_

"Whatever you say, Carapace. He's pissing me off though, being his usual touchy, creepy self."

" _If that's how he usually is, why is it bothering you so much?"_

"Valid question, my friend. Valid question." Shepard felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see one of the bottle service girls smiling up at her. The smile was somewhat forced, but when Shepard gave a genuine smile back the tension in tight cheeks loosened. "Yes?"

"The big krogan over there wants to talk to you." The girl pointed in the direction of a table half-hidden in shadows, but Shepard could see the massive hulk of a krogan silhouette. She hesitated, casting a glance back towards Liara and Grim. She didn't want to let the two out of her sight at _all,_ but a krogan was not something you ignored. "He seemed pretty insistent." the server offered.

With that, Shepard watched the girl flounce away in the direction of her other tables with a frown. She gave one last look towards Liara, praying this would be quick, and headed over to the krogan's table. She'd heard about krogan and seen a few, but never talked to one. She knew a lot of people were afraid of them, but didn't understand how anyone could think chemical castration could be an appropriate way to treat an entire species. As she got closer she took in blood red armor and battle scars, and when the krogan turned his face towards her his red eyes practically gleamed in the darkened atmosphere. "Human," he rumbled. "Sit."

He gestured for Shepard to sit down with one spiked mace of a hand, and instead of being afraid Shepard was only intrigued. "You wanted me for something? Krogan?"

He gave her a once-over and almost looked like he wanted to chuckle before he threw back a glass of whatever he was drinking. "Name's Wrex. Urdnot Wrex."

Shepard eyed him up, wishing she had a drink to throw back as well. "Shepard. Just Shepard."

"Shepard, huh?" Wrex rumbled again, scratching at his chin with his claws before pushing forth another glass that Shepard hadn't realized was there before filling it with a bright green liquid. "Have a drink. It's safe, don't worry."

"Didn't doubt it," Shepard mused aloud as she considered the green drink for a moment before tossing it back. This was not beer, but you didn't say no when something five times your size offered you hospitality. Thanks to the alcohol already buzzing in her liver, the burn wasn't quite as bad as it could have been. "If you wanted to hurt me I doubt you'd waste liquor on me to do it."

Now Wrex did chuckle, however briefly. "I have no reason to want you dead, yet. No, I was actually thinking we might work together on something."

Shepard cocked a brow. "And what might that be? I doubt you need me for muscle."

The massive krogan shook his head. "Damn right. But it seems that you and I have a bone to pick with the same guy." He swung his head in the direction of the bar, and when Shepard followed his gaze she was surprised to see that Wrex had an even better shot of Liara and Grim than she had. She cursed under her breath when she saw that Grim had put his hand on Liara's thigh and was grinning like a maniac. The urge to punch flowed strongly through her blood. "I assume the asari is yours?"

"Yeah," Shepard responded, barely registering the question and too irritated to fully comprehend the immediacy of her answer.

"I don't know why you're after him, but I've been paid to kill him." Shepard's eyes shot to Wrex's and the krogan bared his teeth in a smile. "Little pyjak had a little fun with the very inebriated bondmate of a _very_ pissed off asari commando. She wants payback. I want her credits."

"Why am I not at all surprised? Asshole." Shepard _very_ much wanted to punch him now. And shoot his nuts off. She stared off in the direction of the bar for a moment, debating in her head, before deciding to stick with honesty and turned back to Wrex. "I need to have him turned in to C-Sec or else I go to prison. How do we compromise that?"

Wrex seemed to consider that for a moment before rising from the table. "I've been following the fodder for a week and this is the closest I've gotten to him. I have a feeling that's because you're here. You probably have someone on the outside waiting for him, so here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna head to C-Sec, fight my way to Executor Pallin if I have to, and once he's done squeezing the slimy little runt for info I'm going to kill him. Then we split the bounty. How's that?"

"Fine by me." Shepar didn't even hesitate. It always paid to have big friends, literally and figuratively, and seeing Grim dead wasn't going to be something she lost sleep over. He'd be one less person from her past she'd ever have to worry about answering to again. Plus, it was always good to have some dough stashed away.

The krogan and the human shook hands, and Shepard stayed seated while Wrex headed towards the exit. "You can keep the bottle," he called back to her just before he disappeared from sight. Shepard debated the possible consequences of having yet another drink before she shrugged and poured herself another glass. From across the bar, a curious asari who'd been watching the entire affair saw the krogan leave. A dangerous smile graced her exquisite features when she saw the human making no move to stand, and she politely excused herself from her own conversation.

Meanwhile, Shepard was clueing Garrus in on the update. "I swear, krogan are even bigger than I thought they'd be."

" _Krogan are dangerous and think with their tempers. I can't believe you just blindly trusted his word like that, he could turn around and backstab all of us!"_

"You don't know Grim like I do, Vakarian. And, considering I don't have years of prejudice and opinions on justifying the genophage drilled into me, my head might be a little bit clearer than yours at the moment."

" _Tell that to all the alcohol in your liver right now. Do you even know what you're drinking?"_

"Not at all," Shepard chuckled and sipped from her glass again, definitely able to appreciate the buzz thrumming beneath her skin. Her temples felt fuzzy too, in a drunk way. What an interesting life she was living now. An orphaned runt from Earth now surrounded by aliens that wanted to either research her or help her shoot people. Her old comrades, no less. Life was funny like that.

"Is this seat taken?"

Shepard glanced up and all of a sudden the pleasant buzz became a shiver. An asari in dark, skin-tight clothing was standing before her, bright eyes dangerous but beautiful. Shepard found herself tongue-tied, but managed to shake her head. The asari smiled and moved with grace as she took the seat that Wrex had occupied not moments ago. Shepard eyed her suspiciously, and glanced back at the bar to make sure Grim and Liara were still there and that Liara was alright. The two seemed to be talking business, and Grim had even moved back to a slightly respectable distance. He did seem to be doing the opposite of taking it easy on the drinks though, she could practically see him wobbling on his feet from here. It would be time to make their move soon.

"Am I boring you?" the asari's voice was decorated with amusement but, like her smile, held barely concealed danger.

Unfortunately, Shepard wasn't always the best at spotting danger where it stood, so she hurried to appear polite and returned the smile. "Sorry, I was just checking up on a friend. Making sure I don't have to rough anybody up."

"How chivalrous of you," the asari said, eyes wandering unabashedly over Shepard's frame. "What's your name?"

"A lot of aliens seem to be asking me that tonight," Shepard mused instead of answering. She took her own time to analyze the creature sitting across from her. She may not have been good at recognizing danger, but she knew power and could practically _smell_ it in the air.

"And I can assure you that I'm the only one that matters."

Shepard raised her eyebrows and took a sip straight from the bottle before leaning back into the padded booth. If an asari wanted to flirt with her, then she'd flirt back. She could do that. Flirting wasn't that hard. It was the stuff that came after that usually managed to trip her up, but tonight she had a mission. Missions trumped everything else. "Bold words from someone with a surprising lack of manners…" Shepard trailed off with a smirk.

The asari across from her never skipped a beat, eyes traveling from Shepard's collarbone up the column of her throat. "A lack of manners, you say? How so?"

"In human cultures, it's common courtesy to introduce oneself before asking someone else for their name," Shepard responded.

The asari considered that for a moment before mirroring Shepard's posture and regarding her with lidded eyes. "I see. My experience with humans is… limited, I'm afraid." She paused. "I think I could learn a lot from someone like you."

Shepard nearly choked on her second sip. _Well this chick's not subtle._

"My name is Morinth," the asari said with a seductively slow grin, one that curled at her blue lips almost in slow-motion. "Will you tell me your name now? And then, maybe you might like to come dance with me?"

"Dance with you? I didn't know the Box had a-"

"A VIP section? Indeed it does. Upstairs, special guests only." Morinth continued to stare, admiring her features with a hunger Shepard could practically feel nipping at her skin. Suddenly, Morinth snapped her fingers and leaned forward in her seat. "I just realized, you might be able to help me with something."

Shepard cocked her head, curious as to what this asari might want with her _aside_ from the implications of the sensual energy thrumming around her.

"This is a human club, presumably named after something human. Tell me, what exactly is Pandora's Box?"

"It's mythology," Shepard slowly began, the effects of the liquor in her system and the energy in the air between them dizzying her head. "The Greeks, that is, an ancient human culture, used stories to explain away all the science in the world before we _had_ science. Pandora was a woman the gods created and, for some reason only they could tell you, decided to put all the evils of the world in a box. Then, they gave it to her to protect. It's supposed to be a moral lesson on curiosity I think, because eventually she can't help herself and she opens the box."

"…thus letting evil escape into the world? My, I didn't think humans were quite so dour."

Shepard shrugged. "Or maybe curiosity is a part of life, and a little bit of pain makes the pleasure feel that much better."

Morinth's energy seemed to radiate in response to her words, and the smile on her face became absolutely cat-like. She rose like water, acqua eyes fixed on Shepard like she was a prey animal, not a dance partner. She moved to Shepard's side of the table, dragging a finger across its surface before stopping and leaning in. She came so close that Shepard could feel Morinth's breath fanning across her face, and she was so caught up in the depth of those blue eyes that when the sound of a new connection being made with her omni-tool dinged she barely registered it.

"I like you." Morinth said simply, like Shepard was a particularly tasty-looking item on a dessert menu. She reached out and took hold of both of Shepard's wrists, pulling the human to her feet with worrying ease. "Let's dance."

Part of Shepard thought that was a wonderful idea, but a much larger part of her reminded her of the other asari in the room she needed to be paying attention to. And when she cast another glance towards the bar her blood ran cold.

Liara and Grim had disappeared.

"Fuck!" Shepard hissed under her breath, pulling out of Morinth's embrace and moving to flee. She needed to run, she needed to find Liara and if that asshole Grim had harmed _one freckle on her face…_

…but then she was pressed up against a wall and there was a voice in her ear.

"Where do you think you're going?" Morinth's whisper made her shiver and the warmth of the body pressed against her had her lower abdomen doing somersaults but Liara was more important right now.

Shepard used her own strength to push the asari back, and the surprise on Morinth's face was almost comical. "Look, you're really hot and all but I need to find my friend. She's not where I left her and some creep is probably trying to sleep with her so please let me go."

Morinth was silent for a moment before she nodded. She let Shepard go and stepped back but not before caressing the human's cheek and smiling that hunter's smile. "Fine. Find your friend. This won't be the last time you see me."

And with that, Morinth was gliding away and Shepard was too busy rushing to the exit to worry about what the hell that was supposed to mean.

 **Unknown Corridor | Citadel | September 15th 2174**

 _Where are you, Shepard?_

Grim was exceptionally drunk and Shepard was nowhere to be found. The only upside to those two things combined was the fact that Grim was so inebriated he probably didn't even remember Shepard disappearing. But now he was getting handsy and they'd only barely left the club. This was the part of the plan where Shepard was supposed to be playing "wingwoman" for Grim and leading them back to "Liara's place," but in reality making sure that they were headed straight for Garrus. Liara knew exactly where Garrus was and so far was getting them there on her own, but Grim had tried to pull her into one of the many dark corners the wards had to offer at least three times now. If there had been more she'd blocked them out. Liara could take care of herself no problem, but she didn't want to cause a scene, or test out how well Grim could flee while utterly wasted.

And she was worried about Shepard. The human had disappeared and Pandora's Box seemed like the sort of place you did not want the people you cared about disappearing in.

"Come on, Doc… let's have a little preview," Grim slurred at her, trying once again to pull her off course.

"None of that now, we're almost there," Liara lied through her teeth. She was tired and worried and she was sick of having this man's hands on her. If this wasn't over soon she was going to snap.

" _Liara!"_ Liara snapped to attention and couldn't stop the relieved smile that bloomed across her face. She turned, still half-carrying a wobbly Grim, and saw Shepard hurrying towards them. Liara's relief turned towards concern when she realized Shepard was a little wobbly on her feet as well.

"Shepard?" Liara kept her voice light for the sake of her character. "We were wondering where you were!"

When Shepard finally stood before her she doubled over to catch her breath, and at that moment Grim decided to realize that he'd forgotten about Shepard's presence. "Shep? Hey, Shep! You're back! You know, you're friend here is so great. Gonna be so great for business."

"Shut up, Grim." Liara's eyes widened at the harshness in Shepard's tone, and panic began to settle in her stomach when Grim's eyes narrowed and he stepped away from her. All of a sudden he seemed a lot more sober.

"The fuck is your problem, Jane?"

"Don't call me that, you asshat." Shepard snarled. Having caught her breath, she straightened up and the look in her eyes as she glared at Grim had Liara wondering what could have happened in the bar. She seemed practically vicious compared to the way she'd behaved towards Grim before, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Funny thing, Grim. I met a guy at the bar, told me about the commando that's after you."

 _What? This isn't part of the script…_ What was going on? Liara had completely no idea.

Grim raised his chin defiantly. "I don't know what you're talking about." But his tone said that he did, and after Shepard's glare intensified he rolled his eyes and took a shaky step forward into Shepard's space. "Look, Shep, you know I fuck a lot of girls. How am I supposed to remember which ones are conscious and which ones aren't?"

Liara narrowed her eyes, disgusted. What a horrible thing to say, to suggest. If this was the kind of person Shepard had been forced to associate with for most of her adult life it was no wonder the human was reluctant to open up. Liara pulled away and took a step back, ready to summon her biotics at a moment's notice. Things were about to escalate, she could tell. Shepard was bristling, fists clenched at her side. She looked downright thunderous, and Liara could only wonder how much of that fire was meant for her and how much was meant for the other people Grim had wronged. "I said, shut up Grim. That mouth of yours is gonna get you killed bud, I swear it."

"Oh yeah?" All of a sudden Grim had his gun out and the people around them were gasping. Liara took another step back, the blue flicker of biotic energy already swirling around her hands for when she might need it. Shepard, on her part, didn't look at all fazed. She didn't even draw her own gun, which Liara definitely would have done had she been in Shepard's shoes. "Maybe you'll sing a different tune when I add your little friend to that list and-"

Before the words were even fully out of his mouth a biotic shockwave erupted not from Liara's hands, but from Shepard's.

Liara's jaw dropped.

Grim went flying, his gun falling and bystanders shouting as his body slammed into the far wall and went limp. Liara looked at Shepard in shock, watching the blue swirls of energy caressing Shepard's hands like old friends and trying to process that the human who could read Prothean was also a biotic. When Shepard finally glanced her way, she blushed and immediately dropped her eyes to the floor.

Liara looked between Shepard and Grim's limp body before sighing. Were there any _other_ surprises the Goddess had in store for her today? She reached out and put a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "We need to talk."

* * *

 _Morinth is lovely and Wrex is my favorite._

 _Next time on CotC: Liara and Shepard have their talk, Wrex takes Shepard shopping, and Morinth likes to play with her food._

 _-Cel_


	5. Chapter 5

**C-Sec Interrogation Room | Citadel | September 15th 2174**

Liara paced back and forth, unsure of where to begin. Shepard sat before her, arms crossed like a petulant child waiting to be scolded. And why shouldn't she be? Not only was she keeping secrets from the people she was supposed to be one hundred percent honest with for her _freedom's_ sake, she was double-dealing with krogan mercenaries and hiding the tiny little tidbit that she was an unregistered biotic.

The Alliance made unregistered biotics _disappear._

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" Liara finally demanded, but she didn't stop her pacing.

"…it never, came up?" Shepard squirmed uncomfortably, the liquor still buzzing through her veins making it very difficult to stay still. Whatever that green stuff the krogan had given her to drink didn't seem to be _disagreeing_ with her, which was good. But it was making it very difficult for her to play the part of a well-behaved but plays-her-cards-close-to-her-chest sort of lady.

The trip to C-Sec had been awkward, to say the least. Garrus had eventually met up with them only to immediately throw them all into a skycar and employ every ounce of scathing sarcasm his bones held to find out what the hell happened. He'd practically hissed out every question and Liara had reveled in the satisfaction of seeing Shepard shrink down into her seat, cheeks blushing bright with shame. Of course, Shepard had refused to answer any questions and spent the entire ride kicking Grim's limp form if it even so much as twitched. While Liara enjoyed the sound of his pained grunts, she was still angry and from the surprised look on Garrus' face when she finished updating him on what'd happened through clipped tones she supposed it was obvious. He must not have thought her capable of such an impolite emotion as anger.

Part of the problem really (if she was being honest with herself) was that Liara found herself in the pitiable position of being even _more_ drawn to the temperamental human than she already had been. Humans with the mental capacity for biotic power were few and far between (because biotic energy required a highly intelligent and self-aware mind to successfully employ), and Shepard was the first one she'd met in person. Human biotics were very different from what Liara was used to. From what she had been able to glean immediately, Shepard's control was weak, sloppy even. But the sheer power there was surprising. The rawness of the energy in her shockwave had been… impressive. Intriguing.

Infuriatingly attractive.

"Never came up?" Liara cried indignantly, and Shepard shrank under the fire in her gaze. It seemed out of character for the normally-reserved scientist to get so worked up and Shepard would be loath to incur more of her wrath. "Do you know what the Alliance does to unregistered biotics? It's practically _i_ _nfamous_ among the asari how _cruel_ your kind can be to it's own species whenever a trait that can be weaponized becomes involved! If anyone finds out I don't think that even Saren himself could keep you from them without causing an interplanetary incident!"

Shepard hung her head, not quite out of shame but she didn't want Liara to be upset with her. When the action made her head spin, she groaned and tried to steady herself. It almost felt like her temples, hot and fuzzy from the alcohol, were loaded with helium and trying to fly away from the rest of her. She was finding it very hard to focus, which was a problem because she _needed_ to be eloquent about this explanation. Being a biotic had never been something she wanted to advertise, especially while she was space-side. She knew damn well how the Alliance chose to handle unregistered biotics like her, because there _were_ no unregistered biotics. Not in Alliance space. Most of them were wanted criminals hiding out in the Terminus systems… or low-blip merc kids like her.

Shepard rubbed at her eyes, and when she finally spoke she sounded exhausted. Though her words tumbled out in a slurred rush, they seemed to come from one of the few remaining sober corners in the human's mind. "Look… I didn't mean for it to come out like this. Honest." Her voice was small, on the verge of faltering. "If it had been up to me I never would have become a biotic in the first place." _If it had been up to me I never would have left_ Earth _in the first place..._

Liara paused, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. "You're saying you became one against your will? How is that even possible?" From what she understood, the human body's process of adjusting to a biotic implant was both painful and costly, not even accounting for the possible complications or the initial dangers of the surgery. Everyone, asari especially (because they kept a steady watch on every species that tried to achieve the asari's biotic mastery just in case one ever started to get too close), knew the horror stories of the side effects of the L2 implant… psychosis, migraines, hallucinations…

Liara's eyes widened and she stepped forward, placing her hands on Shepard's shoulders. "Which implant do you have?" The worry made the question heavy and ominous, but Shepard finally looked up to give her a reassuring half-smile.

"L3. Best money can buy. So no worries… no hallucinations for me." Even drunk Shepard knew better than to try and laugh at her own joke with a worried asari staring her down, so she settled for a half-grin before her eyes returned to the floor. "The Reds weren't quite as eager as the Alliance to use kids as test subjects. Not their own. I did hear there were... _others._ When I was really young. Not Reds kids, but... I dunno. It's all scientists that performed the surgeries... they knew right away that the L2's were no good. Too many risks. But the Alliance wanted to have biotics _so_ badly..."

Liara was only slightly reassured, because with that one single answer a whole new slew of questions came along for company. Shepard must have seen them all swirling in her eyes because she sighed and laid one of her hands on top of Liara's. "Look, stop staring at me like I'm about to short-circuit or something, I'm alright. It's not even a big deal." She patted the seat on the bench next to her, a gesture for Liara to seat herself. Liara did so immediately, and didn't even bother with placing herself a respectable distance away. They were past that now, especially with Shepard wobbling in her seat, unable to maintain eye contact for more than a second.

They were in one of the interrogation rooms at C-Sec HQ. The moment Grim had been handed over to Executor Pallin (who stood beside a very smug-looking krogan Shepard immediately introduced as one Urdnot Wrex) Liara had dragged her away for a very necessary, very private conversation. Garrus had moved to stop them but one look from Liara convinced him to stay back. Liara could only hope that the turians and krogan wouldn't kill each other while the she got the answers she needed. She'd been worried when she'd first realized how intoxicated Shepard seemed to have gotten in such a short amount of time, worried that she'd have to drag the answers out of her piece by drunken piece, but so far Shepard seemed to be cooperating. Shepard gave the cold, silent room a quick once-over, making note of the cameras and eyeing them suspiciously before turning to Liara.

"The Reds move a lot of Red Sand. We practically named the stuff. If someone tries to tell you it's just cause it comes from _Mars_ they're full of it. Mars isn't even that red, it's just dusty. Anyway, the gang's got a presence in at least every major city in the US… oh, uh, the country I'm from. It used to be a pretty decent place, but about a hundred and fifty or so years ago we started making a lot of shit decisions. Now, it's more like a massive turf war than an actual country. My boss was just the head of one chapter of the organization. The guy in charge of it all had always been pulling kids off the street, promising them food and credits for their service. When the Alliance really started funneling credits into biotic studies… he had the brilliant idea to 'acquire' some for himself.

So eventually, as he kept pulling orphans out of the gutter and into the family, he started testing us for any sort of biotic potential. The same tests the Alliance uses. If any of them had the scrap for it, he personally paid to have them outfitted with whatever was available... I was a special case though. I don't know why, but the boss waited for the L3 before he had me set up. Maybe because I was good with a shotgun _before_ I was good at throwing shit across the room with my brain. He did it with a few other kids, the best and brightest, but when I say few I mean _few._ I could probably still name them all." She paused for a minute, gazing at nothing as Liara assumed she relived some perhaps painful memories. "I remember it hurting like a bitch… being sore for weeks."

"I assume… you had the potential? Even from such a young age? " Liara asked softly.

Shepard nodded absentmindedly, gaze still far off. "I was almost thirteen when they first took me in. It's the reason I never had to deal. None of the biotics ever deal. We're too valuable to lose, too big an investment. It's a waste of credits if we get thrown in jail. We're… bruisers, mostly. Leg-breakers." She finally seemed to return to the present, and when she saw the look on Liara's face she attempted to lighten the mood with some humor, as per usual. "We're not as fancy with our biotics as your species is. You ask me to throw a stasis, I give you a blank stare. You need me to take down someone twice my size? My shockwave's got you covered. My strengths are in force, not finesse. Besides, the threat of being hung upside or shot across the room with just a _thought_ can convince someone to do just about anything. Parting with the credits they owe you is usually at the top of the list."

Liara pondered this a moment. Her sheltered life might have made it hard at first for her to picture biotic gifts being used for such base purposes, but eventually she got the idea. She knew for a fact that her own mother's commando unit frequently made use of such tactics. "So… you were used to threaten people into cooperating? That's…"

"It was a shitty job, believe me. Hurt enough people and you start to forget that it's wrong." Shepard paused, head lolling to the side as she muttered something about never trusting krogans with liquor again before she pressed on. "I tried to prove that I could be just as useful moving mods and weapons, and god _dammit_ I was… but I always just wound up pummeling some poor sap that couldn't make his payments." She turned away from Liara then, and the asari made note of the glassy sheen to her eyes. She stood suddenly, and when she wobbled Liara feared she might tumble to the floor. But Shepard's arms immediately shot out for balance and she caught herself. Still refusing to face Liara, she shoved her hands deep into the pockets of the jacket she wore and took a few steps away to separate herself from Liara. "But that part of my life is over, right? I'm done with the Reds." The finality in her voice would have been more effective if the liquor hadn't been softening her words. "As for the biotics... well. I might be unregistered, but I know what I'm doing. So… unless you feel like tattling then I won't go disappearing into an Alliance science lab."

Liara stood as well, knowing full well that this conversation was not over no matter how badly Shepard wanted it to be. "That's _not_ all there is to it. If you want to drop the biotic conversation for now that's fine, but there's something else I need to address."

The groan Shepard let out was loud with agitation, immature in a way only made possible in adults by a high level of inebriation. Her head lolled back as she stomped her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. "What, the krogan? I'm not sorry about that, I-"

"No, it's not the krogan I'm worried about. You can explain that one to Garrus and the Executor." Shepard turned to shoot her a look of cowed surprise. It would seem that Shepard, like Garrus, had not been expecting the scientist to be capable of such sass. The surprise was a pleasant one for Shepard. She didn't have to worry quite so much about being herself when she knew that people had backbones hiding beneath their good behavior. Liara had been surprising her nearly every hour on the dot tonight, first with volunteering herself to be bait and now with the lecture. "I overheard your conversation the other night and I _demand_ to know who you've been in contact with." Liara tried to keep her voice firm, and by the look on Shepard's face she supposed she might have succeeded.

"…what?" Shepard asked, and Liara honestly couldn't tell if she was playing dumb or truly had no idea what Liara was talking about.

Liara wrung her hands, confidence wavering. "I… the other night, _late_ at night I overheard you talking to someone. You claim to be done with your old life, yes? Well I… I'm worried that you might be lying. And jeopardizing your freedom."

Every second of silence that passed made Liara's skin crawl and Shepard was just staring at her, blankly. Eventually she turned her head but kept her back to Liara. Liara would have given anything to see the look on her face in that moment or know what she was thinking. She wasn't cruel, she wanted this conversation to be over just as much as Shepard did, but she _refused_ to keep secrets between them. Secrets were bad; they festered and rotted and grew into terrible monstrosities that could ruin even the strongest of bonds. She'd seen it happen before. Or, rather… she knew of it happening before. Liara must have begun to retreat into her own head for when Shepard finally spoke, the asari jumped, suddenly pulled back out of her own head.

"And what exactly did you overhear?" The human sounded far more sober than she had a moment ago.

"I don't remember it word for word… but you mentioned Grim's name. And it seemed like you were explaining the terms of your release." She left out the fact that she'd overheard Shepard calling her cute. That was something she'd rather address when one couldn't cut the tension in the room with a knife.

Shepard hummed and Liara could see her cross her arms. She turned to face Liara then and to the asari's surprise, the look on her face was not one of fear, or fury, or even surprise. The human merely looked curious. "Why do you want to know?"

Liara stared at her in disbelief. "What do you mean, why?"

Shepard cocked her head, and asked again. "Why do you want to know? What does it matter?"

Liara was flabbergasted. "Because," she began slowly, having difficulty understanding why this was something she needed to explain. "If Garrus or the Executor finds out, they'll throw you back in prison? And I doubt very much that circumstances have changed since we _last_ discussed this but aren't you trying to avoid that?"

Now Shepard was walking towards her and Liara shrank back against the wall. "The Executor? Sure. I mean, he'd probably try. But Garrus? I don't think so." Shepard stopped in front of her and squatted down, resting back on her haunches in a relaxed catcher's stance. "See, I did my job. I helped Vakarian catch five dealers. Pallin never said he wanted the _best_ ones."

The uneasy feeling was back in Liara's stomach. "What do you mean?"

Shepard sighed and reached out to pat Liara's knee like the asari was a curious five-year-old and not a concerned… well, she wasn't really Shepard's _friend_ quite yet. "Listen, Liara. Drugs are bad. Murder is bad. Yadda yadda. We all know that. But they both make a lot of people a lot of money: a lot of money that, back on Earth, gets used to feed a lot of orphans."

Shepard looked down at her hands and in an instant a biotic glow sprang to life, arcs of electric blue weaving between her fingers. "Did I like being a 10th Street Red? No. Did I like breaking femurs for a living? No." The blue light faded away into nothingness, waiting once again for its master's call, and Shepard looked up. "But at least I _had_ a living. If I hadn't been recruited, I'd probably be dead. Starved to death in some gutter. I certainly wouldn't be here helping Garrus, or you. And the cops can preach all they want about 'the war on blood money,' but it's a load of bullshit. Always has been, way back before we even made it off the planet." Shepard's gaze was stony, but not unkind. "So if you really want to know, then I'll tell you."

She looked down and brought up her omni-tool interface. "We all have our chapter head's contact info hidden in our ink, kind of like a QR code. There's an encrypted software our tech department developed for this sort of thing; it reads the code and puts us in contact with the chapter head for one final call. Once the connection is cut it basically self-destructs. Even if you told Garrus about the call I doubt he'd be able to find proof, the program is hella efficient. The second I had the chance, I called him and asked him which dealers he wouldn't mind missing. He was pissed when I told him I got bopped. No specifics, so don't worry about your Prothean research, but he knows I can't come back. The thing is, people come and go from the Reds, it happens a lot. Especially with gangs running out in the Terminus Systems, I think they're called? They're some of our biggest buyers. There's usually no bad blood, so you don't have to worry about anyone coming after me unless it's for a personal favor... which probably won't happen considering I'm essentially dead to the Reds with a C-Sec arrest on my record." Shepard shut down her omni-tool, stood, and headed for the door. Liara was too busy processing information and trying to find her own answers to the moral questions buzzing in her skull to try and stop her.

"…and not to be a bitch, but I'd be a lot less willing to be your lab rat from inside a prison cell." With a tone of finality Shepard moved to open the door and leave the room, but Liara finally found her voice and stood.

"Wait!" Liara called out, hurrying forward and going so far as to reach out and take Shepard's hand. Whether that was to be a sign of reassurance or a measure meant to keep her from fleeing, neither was sure. Shepard watched as Liara worried at her bottom lip, unsure of what to say. Normally when she walked out on a conversation, people let her go. This whole being chased after thing was new, and weird.

Liara found herself in a conundrum. The more time she seemed to spend with Shepard, the more she learned that she didn't particularly like. Shepard clearly had a harsh background, which was sad, but she didn't seem to be all that affected by it, at least not on the surface. Liara had met few people so nonchalant about a lifetime of violence and nearly all of them were krogan. The human was practically a misanthrope, possessing not a single genuine connection to anyone from what she called her "old" life, and had been conditioned to employ violence as a first response. She was also a proven liar and an opportunist, hence the presence of a krogan bounty hunter not three rooms over. And yet, Liara couldn't help but be drawn to this sarcastic, closed-off individual. Something told her there was more than what she was being presented with, much more. It was in Shepard's wit, her sly smiles, the conspiratorial glint of humor in her eyes. Liara felt a desire to understand, to find and clear out the root causes of negativity tarnishing this warm creature. After all, she'd seen flashes of a fiercely protective nature. Bravado could only partially hide the determination and adaptability.

After a time, the only thought Liara could properly voice was, "I don't want to leave things like this."

Shepard immediately narrowed her eyes in what she surely meant to be irritation but Liara saw only confusion, a lack of comprehension. Obviously Shepard had expected the conversation to end, to have an uninterrupted exit. Perhaps that was how all conversations up until this point about her more questionable actions had ended, because now she seemed to have no idea how to proceed. "Uh…" she trailed off, utterly dumbfounded, raising a hand to fiddle with the shiny metal bit at her ear. Liara eyed it curiously, sensing an opportunity to ease the conversation back into casual territory.

"I meant to ask you about those, now that I think of it…" Liara began. She subconsciously tightened her hold on Shepard's hand as she raised her other one to Shepard's ear. "May I?"

To Liara's delight Shepard actually flushed and looked away before nodding. Liara smiled brightly and moved the human's hair away from her ear to get a better look. Ears were terribly odd-looking structures, she decided then. There was a small stud of solid gold pierced straight through the human's skin and Liara eyed it curiously. How did that get there? Was it intentional? For what purpose? "What is this?"

"They're called earrings…" Shepard said nervously as stared at a spot on the ceiling, cheeks pink.

"What purpose do they serve?"

Liara, out of purely scientific curiosity, brushed her thumb along the shell of Shepard's ear. The touch was gentle but to Liara's surprise Shepard took a sharp intake of breath and shied away. Liara blinked and pulled back, worried that she'd crossed a boundary.

"They're just for decoration," Shepard said in a huff, quickly brushing her hair back over her ear. She gave a weak attempt to pull her hand from Liara's grasp and the asari let her go, finally becoming aware of her own forwardness.

The two stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. Shepard shuffled her feet and Liara crossed an arm over her stomach, uncomfortable. It was true that she hadn't wanted to leave things stiff and untrustworthy, but she wasn't quite sure how to go about making that a reality. Asking Shepard about the earrings seemed only to have embarrassed her. Eventually though, as was her nervous habit, word began to tumble from Liara's lips without her consent. "We may not have known each other for very long Shepard and I, I know that I can be rather… well, I'm not always as eloquent as I'd like to be. But I enjoy being around you. That is, when you aren't lying to me. I want you to enjoy being around me as well… I know we come from very, _very_ different backgrounds and I know that you might not care for the work we have ahead of us but I'd like to think that we could get along quite well. I would, in fact, like it very much if we did. Get along well, that is," she hurried to finish.

Shepard's shoulders were still tense, hands still shoved deep in the pockets of her jacket but at least she was looking her in the eye again. Liara took that as a good sign and continued, this time a tad more confidently. "But I refuse to lie to you or myself. I don't want to keep secrets… I had enough of that growing up." It was time for Liara to avert her eyes when Shepard cocked a brow in her direction. Now was not the time to bring up her sheltered childhood, not when they'd just discussed the brutality of Shepard's.

Shepard eyed her curiously before smiling. Her smile was gentle, not arrogant or mischievous. It was a barely-there smile, one that Shepard was likely not even aware of. "Maybe we should save that story for later. We can crack open a bottle of wine and have a… girl's night or something."

"Well, technically my species is mono-gendered and-"

"I'm sorry, Liara." Shepard cut her off gently, and Liara realized there was a hand resting gently against the curve of her spine, just as there had been in Pandora's Box. The contact was an immense comfort, almost unfair in its near-instant effect on the asari's entire body. "Sorry I got snippy. For future reference, if you want this… friendship thing to work you should just ignore me when I'm acting pissy. I usually don't mean it."

 _Friendship?_ Liara's eyes widened. "Then…?"

Shepard's grin was bigger now, fuller. Liara was quickly learning that as… exciting as it had been to see Shepard in action, protective and unshakeable, these gentler expressions were far more appealing. To see such a brusque individual relax and show the slightest bits of vulnerability through the veneer of sarcasm and jokes… it made them feel closer. It felt like a true connection.

"Anything to keep you from pulling that pouty face you were sporting a few minutes ago. We get along well enough, when I'm not busy being a brat. If we're going to be work buddies _and_ roommates we might as well be friends or something."

"Or something?" Liara was both unable and unwilling to keep the hope from coloring her words.

The deer-in-headlights look the human was now sporting was absolutely satisfying. Shepard hurried to explain herself, actually stepping closer into Liara's space in her rush to rectify what her liquor-addled brain considered an offense. "I just mean, y'know that you're… actually, never mind! I didn't mean anything by it. Just me and my tipsy brain, that's all. Forget I said anything. You're just cute and I…" Shepard blinked. "…am going to stop talking now."

Liara giggled. "Perhaps for now that would be best. Shall we return to Garrus and the Executor? You can introduce me to your new krogan friend."

Shepard continued to look embarrassed but seemed grateful that Liara was deciding not to push the subject. She fiddled with one of her earrings and turned away, eager to remove herself from the hole she'd dug. "Yeah, no worries he seems… well, not harmless but pretty laid back."

"That's not a phrase I'd use to label a krogan, but I trust you."

"Well, how many krogan have you met?" Shepard asked, genuinely curious.

"Not many," Liara admitted.

Shepard's lips quirked up in a grin that spoke volumes about her disregard for stereotypes. Being a mercenary, and quite frankly a criminal, was the fastest way to learn that most people were incapable of being confined to a box. Not all asari were strippers, not all salarians were bright, not all volus were good salespeople, and not all humans were ruffians. Not all marines were good guys, and not all murderers deserved the death penalty. If they were, life would be too damn easy. Sure, she'd heard all about how violent and stupid the krogan were, but the very same people that tried to preach that slander as truth were usually the same ones trying to justifying _genocide_ as a brilliant military move. That is, Alliance recruiters and turian police officers. The same people who'd taken oaths to keep kids like her safe that pretty much always ended up turning the other cheek to avoid an inconvenience.

One of her fondest childhood memories involved a police chief getting shat on by a passing bird just after he'd walked straight past a mugging that was still very much in-the-process. She'd only been five, not quite old enough to join the Reds but she hadn't been far off at that point. It was actually after she'd seen two mean-looking gunmen pause on their walk before there was shouting and shooting and the mugging was thwarted that she actually considered joining up.

She held no grudges towards people that looked the other way or relied on rhetoric to justify their shitty behavior; karma was a bitch and always came back around, even if it _was_ just in the form of a birdie butt sundae.

"Well, give him a chance," Shepard said. "He's honestly probably got a better temper than me."

 **The Executor's Office | Citadel | September 15th 2174**

"For the fifth time, Wrex: you _can't_ kill him."

Executor Pallin's voice was thick with irritation and he was pinching the bridge of his nose between two of his long talons. It was a surprisingly human-looking move. Shepard looked on in amusement while Liara and Garrus both watched the exchange with equal measures concern and suspicion.

"Your first day out of the house and you make friends with a warlord," Garrus leaned down to quip at ear-level with his new human friend. "I'm starting to think you just attract trouble."

Shepard grinned. "What can I say, I have charisma."

"More like a death wish. It's a wonder you've stayed alive this long."

"Please, you two!" Liara whispered, afraid of interrupting the argument brewing between the lawman and the bounty hunter. Liara couldn't understand how Shepard could have felt comfortable enough to sit and share drinks with this… Urdnot Wrex, because it was taking most of her willpower not to shrink towards Shepard's side. The infamous krogan bloodlust was there, just as she'd heard from others that'd fought beside krogan mercenaries before, lying dormant beneath the scaly, bony surface. His eyes were a bright, fiery red, but cold. Closed off. Actually, they were not unlike Shepard's as they'd been when she interacted with Grim. Speaking of Grim, she hoped she'd never have to see the man again. She could still feel his breath on her face; see his self-satisfied smile behind her eyes. She'd have to take a bath when they finally got back to the apartment, whenever that would finally be.

But did she want him dead? Not really. Death was an unpleasant topic, even in theory. Being such a long-lived species, asari saw much more of it than most. They were second only to the krogan, who typically enjoyed killing and even occasionally did it for sport in common practice. Liara supposed that one day the idea of it might not disturb her so, but that day was far off. "He's already in custody, why does he have to die?" she asked softly.

Shepard glanced her way and thought about reaching out to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, but Garrus chose that moment to give his two cents: "If what the krogan claims is true, an asari commando on Illium has every right to want him dead. I say let him go." He threw up a hand in a careless manner, "It's not like the world will be a lesser place for it."

"Garrus," Liara admonished. "Is that really how a C-Sec officer should be speaking?"

Garrus paused, pondering Liara's words, before his shoulders slumped with a degree of fatigue that surprised both of the young ladies standing next to him. "No," he sighed. "I suppose it isn't." Before either Shepard or Liara had time to stop him, the bereft turian muttered something about mission reports and stalked away. The two shared a confused glance, worried that perhaps he'd been offended, before warily tuning back in on the argument still going on in front of them.

"Look, turian. You can let me in there now, or I can make a call to Illium and you let me in later. After an asari commando threatens to warp your hide into a million, tiny pieces. Doesn't matter to me." And by the casual way such a threat left his lips, Liara had no doubt that Wrex truly meant what he said. "But I _am_ killing him. I already got paid, and I never leave a job half-finished."

"Frankly, I don't care about your record. There's more information we can pry from him, and the safety of the civilians on my Citadel means more to me than any threat you could possibly make."

Wrex narrowed his eyes, then swung his head in their direction. Liara tried not to flinch when his gaze passed over her before settling on Shepard. "Even if that were true, what could he possibly know that Shepard couldn't tell you? They were running with the same crew, right?"

The Executor was quiet for a moment and actually seemed to consider Wrex's words. He too turned to look their way. "Shepard, over here," he called.

Shepard muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like "here we go again," before stepping forward. "What's up, sir?"

Liara was relieved when her tone held no sarcasm.

"Your friend here makes an interesting point. What would you say to a debriefing interview before you leave? You were a 10th Street Red, you know just as much about their operations as this Grim fellow does. Legally, I can't just _give_ Wrex his bounty, but we could certainly use Saren's Spectre authority as justification."

He didn't pose any of it as a question, but when he looked at Shepard expectantly she shrugged and ran a hand through her hair, nervous. She could feel Liara's eyes on her, and their earlier conversation came back to mind. Did she have any reason to protect the Reds anymore? Maybe not... but was she comfortable with being a rat? No. Did she have a choice? Not really. "I guess that would be... fine. I can at least give you everything I know about the gang's attempts to make waves here on the Citadel. That won't hurt any of my chapter members back home, so long as you promise not to go throwing my name around in the interrogation rooms."

Now that she had a better idea of Shepard's relationship with her gang, Liara found herself believing every word. But was this a good idea? "Executor," she interrupted, stepping forward to put Shepard slightly behind her, as if to protect the young woman. "Wouldn't this be putting Shepard at risk? If you do start catching these criminals en masse and one of them finds out that she was your informant, she'll become a target." Liara said, unwilling to let Shepard be in any more danger than she had to be. The last thing they needed was an angry member of the Reds showing up at their apartment, armed and dangerous and seeking revenge.

"Then let her join up with a new crew," Wrex surprised them all by intervening with a welcome suggestion. "If she's in with a bigger crowd her old gang won't waste the effort. Try Eclipse, those girls are always looking for members. I hear that Jona Sedaris is trying to rebuild their reputation in the Jonu words now that she's got an in with the asari Councilor."

"Councilor Tevos?" Liara asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Tevos got the position right around the time Aria took over Omega. Eclipse is _big_ on Omega. Don't tell me you can't see the connection."

Liara resented the insinuation that her species' representative on the Council was dirty, meanwhile Shepard looked a lot like a person that didn't understand anything that was being said. Who was Aria? She sounded cool. Was she a big deal?

Executor Pallin cut back in, "Wrex makes a fair point. Being a mercenary isn't much better than being a gang member," he ignored he warning growl Wrex aimed his way, and took a seat back at his desk. "But it would guarantee your safety. Make you a harder target to hit. Here, let me see which of the interrogation rooms with up-to-date transcription software is free and we'll get started. Doctor T'Soni, feel free to join us. You can inform Saren that I'm satisfied with your little research assistant's work and that she's now considered a free woman. Wrex, once Shepard is done I'll give you access to the room where the perp is being kept. Is everyone happy?"

Liara wasn't, and she whispered as much to Shepard.

"It's fine," Shepard whispered back, scratching at her scalp while she glared at the floor. "He's right, it's not like there's anything else I'd be good at. Helping you with your research isn't gonna be a... forever thing, after all. Getting in with a crew now while I've got somewhere to live makes the most sense, just in case I don't have that later." It saddened Liara to know that Shepard was already considering a future beyond their joint work, without Liara. It made _sense,_ she supposed, but it didn't feel right. "And if I want to check out the casinos I'm gonna need my own spending money, right?" She tried to joke, flashing Liara a shaky smile. "Maybe then I can buy clothes that were actually made for me."

"The asari duds wouldn't look so bad if you lost the jacket. It's too human," Wrex's head bobbed with an amused snort.

Shepard scoffed and smoothed down her collar. "This jacket was made in Milan, you _heathen_. It goes where I go." Now that she had actually mentioned it, Liara realized that Shepard _was_ very fond of that jacket. The pants and shirt she'd been wearing when Liara had first met her had been ratty with holes at the seams, but the black jacket was pristine despite it's clear age. Shepard had also been very careful not to dirty it while at the apartment, taking it off to cook or exercise so it wouldn't get dirty. She also had a habit of unnecessarily smoothing out the jacket's collar, which she was doing now while she shot the tall krogan a dirty look in return for the insult. "While we're on the subject of money, don't you forget that half that bounty's mine." Shepard was dreading the oncoming interview, hated that she was about to become a rat, but for her own sanity was trying to change the subject.

"Right," Wrex pulled up the interface of his omni-tool. "Might as well get that over with, give me a sec and I'll upload it to your credit chit."

There was an awkward moment of silence before Shepard actually grinned dangerously. She turned back to Executor Pallin, crossing her arms smugly. "So... _Executor_. Can I get a credit chit? I mean, since your boys trashed my old one. And I'm gonna need a few other... _neccessities_ while we're at it. Call it a trade for my _valuable_ information."

 **Zakera Wards Markets | Citadel | September 15th 2174**

To Liara's disappointment, Shepard didn't want to go straight home after they'd finally left C-Sec. While Wrex had gone to deal with his bounty, Shepard had made Pallin work for his debriefing information. She'd been in that interrogation room with Liara for two hours, spilling secrets about software and personnel shifts. She'd given up all the clever methods the Reds employed to hide Red Sand from turian noses, and explained the group's initial goals for their Citadel expansion. Pallin hadn't seemed overly worried about anything she'd said, but was rather impressed by the ingeniousness of their smuggling techniques. As for payment, her requests had been odd: permission to keep the omni-tool they'd given her, some human-grade C-Sec gear (workout clothes mainly), and a virtual Beginner's Guide to the Citadel. She'd even gone so far as to demand one of his paperweights, purely for the pleasure of his irritation.

Now that she had money and a way to spend it, she wanted to check out the Citadel's famous markets for herself. Wrex had actually tagged along, claiming to know where the most well-known mercs in the area bought their guns. The unlikely pair, human and krogan, was looking over shotguns and mods while Liara typed up a message to Saren. She decided to leave out Shepard's plans to join a more organized, _legal_ mercenary operation. She didn't imagine he'd care, or want to be bothered with details. She was rather relieved that Shepard had been so honest about her secret chats with her old chapter boss, and been upfront with the Executor when answering all of his questions. Liara would have to do something to show her appreciation for the human's good behavior.

 _Well,_ she thought, _maybe not_ good _behavior._

She feared that they would have to have another heart-to-heart rather soon considering the plans Shepard seemed to be making for her future, having expressed concerns for her ability to provide for herself past Saren's involvement in their lives. With Shepard's worth as a scientific marvel she wasn't sure she could allow the human to go off on her own, not in good conscience. The value of the Prothean knowledge she unknowingly contained was priceless, and until Liara understood it and understood where it came from, she wouldn't be letting Shepard leave her sight. Well, maybe not _sight..._ maybe more like her general whereabouts within a respectable travel time. If Shepard was going to be joining a mercenary group for her own safety, then she would have to leave the apartment at some point. And surely, when she was better acquainted with the Citadel, she might like to go on a relaxing stroll, or take a trip to the market. Maybe she'd even let Liara accompany her.

Liara's serious thoughts began to drift towards idle daydreams.

Shepard looked on while Wrex haggled with the tiny, frightened-looking salarian shopkeeper. He seemed to be intent on getting her a gun that would help her better fit in with the rabble of the wards; apparently just having a C-Sec grade sidearm and a stolen SMG wasn't going to cut it. _"Don't want you dying on your first day, now do we?"_ He'd said. When he'd learned she was a biotic and therefore better with an aggressive frontal assault he'd grinned and thumped her on the back like a long-lost comrade.

A ding at Shepard's side made her look down, frowning before booting up her omni-tool. There were only a small few people that could possibly be messaging her and one of them was the gang boss she'd already cut ties with. Could it have been Garrus?

No, she realized when she finally opened the message.

' _Shepard,'_ it read.

' _You ran away before we had a chance to dance. Very rude of you, but I suppose we can let it slide.'_

' _If you're interested in picking up where we left off, I'd love to hear more of those little stories of yours. And maybe we could order something a little… stronger next time.'_

' _Find me at Pandora's Box tomorrow night.'_

' _Or, if you're lucky… I'll find you."_

' _Morinth,'_ It was signed at the bottom.

"Oh boy…" Shepard muttered to herself, hiding the message away and shutting down her omni-tool when she sensed a presence approaching on her left.

"Shepard?" Liara's velvety voice chimed close to her ear.

"What's up?" Shepard asked, hoping there was nothing suspicious about her forced nonchalance.

"Is he, well… are you two almost done?" Liara asked tiredly, and Shepard immediately felt bad. She knew that Liara wanted to go home, and had wanted so for quite a while now. Not that Shepard could blame her. She wanted the exact same thing. A hot shower and a long snooze sounded like almost a remedy to this long, difficult day.

"Let me find out… after this we can head home, alright? Maybe watch a vid together or something?"

Liara brightened at that. "Actually, if you don't mind we could start discussing how I'd like to proceed with my studies. I could show you the preliminary work I've done with the tablets, and maybe we could start looking over some of the images together?" Science sounded like the last thing she wanted to do today, but the hopeful look in Liara's eyes was not something a sane person could say no to and Shepard found herself agreeing almost immediately.

* * *

 _Reworked this a bit. Used to be different._

 _Next time on CotC: More Greek mythology for Morinth, Shepard translates some Prothean, and Liara tries not to get too distracted._

 _-Cel_


	6. Chapter 6

**Apartment 1470, Tiberius Towers | Citadel | September 16** **th** **2174**

Shepard had been abusing the punching bag in her room for the past hour. It had only taken Liara fifteen minutes to become concerned.

She was unsure of how to best approach the girl though; she'd yet to actually enter said bedroom since their initial walkthrough of the apartment, when Shepard had claimed it as her own. So far the worried asari had only managed to seat herself at an angle in the living room that allowed her to keep an eye on the aggravated human, both watching on with concern and admiring the view. After downing enough water to satisfy an eclor's thirst, Shepard had once again taken her jacket off for the exercise, folded it lovingly before laying it down on the bed, and Liara had gotten an eyeful of bare shoulder and collarbone that wasn't nearly long enough before Shepard had turned to the punching bag. Liara was considering adding the study of human musculature to her ever-growing portfolio of studies, it was _fascinating_. What they lacked in durability or biotic prowess humans made up for in sheer muscle mass; their bodies were practically elastic with the way their muscles would repair themselves after intense strain and abuse, building themselves up with an admirable stubbornness.

Liara suspected that Shepard was still trying to work through the aggravation Executor Pallin's coercion had riled up, perhaps dealing with some inner conflictions over the information she had let go about her old gang. And Liara absolutely understood the need for healthy outlets. Exercise _was_ typically the perfect way to vent such aggression... but Shepard had been going full force for longer than was probably healthy. On top of that Liara knew for a fact that the human hadn't eaten since yesterday. Considering the amount of alcohol Liara had smelled on the Shepard's breath after they'd left Pandora's Box, she imagined that Shepard was fighting back some heavy bouts of nausea as well as her urge to get revenge on a certain opportunistic turian.

Speaking of turians…

An idea formed in Liara's mind, and she booted up her omni-tool.

' _Garrus,'_ she began typing, _'I think Shepard could do with a good meal and some fresh clothes. You know the Citadel far better than I, do you know of any good places to find human supplies? Any restaurants, perhaps?'_

She sent the message off with a slight smile, proud of herself for the idea. Initially, she'd been jealous of Shepard and Garrus' instant rapport but after seeing Shepard in action on their little sting operation she better understood _why_ they got along so well. They simply had more in common: a love of guns, aggressive personalities, slightly macabre senses of humor. This didn't mean that Shepard and Liara couldn't get along just as well (if not better), it simply meant that Liara would have to work a little harder and take advantage of as many resources as she could.

One of those resources was Garrus himself. It would be silly of Liara to mistrust him or hold a grudge against him simply due to petty jealousy, especially when she could make use of his knowledge to better equip herself in looking after Shepard. Saren wasn't going to be any help in that department, not that Liara was surprised. When Liara informed him of the new developments regarding the Executor and his unfair demands, she could practically _feel_ the uncaring shrug in Saren's response. _'So long as she makes herself useful, I don't care what's done with her.'_ For a righteous protector of the galaxy, the turian sure was cold. She'd been glad that she chose not to mention Shepard's new plans to get in good with a more professional mercenary crew. Saren cared only for her research, his own agenda, and had no problems making his impatience clear to her between the lines of his messages. It was obvious that now that Shepard was safe from jail, Saren expected Liara to keep her full attention on the Prothean tablets. If she could do her own job well enough, hopefully she could keep him satisfied with her progress and leave Shepard out of his scrutiny.

She wasn't sure how long that was going to work though; he'd expressed a keen interest in knowing why Shepard was able to understand Prothean, one that rivaled the intensity of Liara's but was a lot less friendly in nature. He'd surely be waiting for updates specifically regarding Shepard's translations.

 _That_ process in of itself posed difficulties that Liara was already starting to foresee. She knew that Shepard would force herself to appear interested in the study for as long as she could, and Liara didn't think that Shepard would go out of her way to avoid doing the work. She didn't seem the type. But being a mercenary didn't have a solid timetable, and who knew how often Shepard would have to spend all night out at seedy bars or hailing skycars to meet with riffraff? Working out even a framework of a schedule was going to be impossible, and Liara knew from experience that working with someone who had their mind on a million other things was incredibly difficult. She suspected it wouldn't take more than a handful of sleepless nights trying to impress Eclipse sisters for Shepard to get fidgety and uncooperative.

A surprise came in the form of a buzz at the intercom a few minutes later, stirring Liara from her thoughts. Before Liara had any time to panic about _who_ could possibly know where she was (besides Saren) and who could be at the door, her omni-tool dinged. When she opened her inbox she was relieved to learn just who it was that had come a-calling, and only mildly surprised.

' _Way ahead of you, Doctor. Care to let me up?'_

' _-Garrus'_

Liara blinked down at the interface owlishly for a moment, before gingerly rising from the couch and approaching the door. After having to fiddle with the security monitor for a few moments, as the workings of the apartment were still somewhat unfamiliar to her, Garrus' face appeared on the screen. He had a pack slung over one shoulder, and carried some sort of to-go box that bore markings she did not recognize. Food, perhaps?

Liara smiled when Garrus waved, waving back before allowing him in.

"Shepard," Liara called out while she waited for the doors top open, "Garrus is here. I think he may have brought you a change of clothes and some food."

"Food?!" The excited cry came from within the bedroom, followed by the blue light of a biotic flareup and the sound of the heavy punching bag ricocheting off the wall. There was a solid _thump_ and an utterance of irritated pain before Shepard emerged, looking slightly like she just got smacked in the face with thoroughly-abused gym equipment. "What?" she asked, cheeks tinged with a pink blush of embarrassment.

"Are you...? Actually, never mind." Liara let it go with a half-smile, reining in her own amusement for Shepard's sake.

"Knock, knock. Room service." The subharmonics of Garrus Vakarian's velvety voice whistled through the apartment as the sliding doors opened, and the smell wafting from the to-go container confirmed Liara's suspicions that it was in fact dinner for the hungry human. "I come bearing gifts," the turian said, holding up the food container and shrugging off the duffel bag. "The clothes you ordered from the Executor, and food. The vendor called them tacos… I think. His voice was funny, the words started to blend together."

"I never say no to Mexican. Give 'em here!" Shepard jogged forward, sweat beaded on her brow. "The clothes too, I could really use a shower."

Garrus handed everything over, and when Shepard reached up to grab the duffel his nostrils flared. "Probably a good idea… you reek. Like wet dirt."

Shepard's eyes narrowed and Liara smothered another giggle with the back of her hand. Personally, Liara didn't really mind the smell. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but it was musky and earthy and it belonged entirely to Shepard. She supposed that she had more experience with foul odors than Garrus did, having spent most of her life on remote planets in abandoned mines and ruins. Thousand year-old sulfur pockets, now those _really_ did a number on your olfactory senses.

"Gee, thanks. Well give me ten minutes to correct the problem and then we can get started doing whatever it is you came to do."

"And how do you know I didn't just come by for coffee and a chat?" The look Shepard fixed on Garrus was too amused to be serious, and the turian grinned. "Fair enough. I doubt you have dextro coffee, anyway."

"Dextro coffee?" Shepard questioned, cocking her head to the side.

Ever the scientist, Liara stepped in to explain. "Turians have a different amino acid makeup; they can't ingest the same food that we do. It would make them sick, incredibly so depending on the amount ingested. Humans and asari on the other hand have the same amino acids, that's why there's been no issue with us sharing food." Shepard looked a little too in over her head to fully understand what Liara had just said so she just nodded and made a quick side trip to the kitchen to deposit her food container in the _oven_ of all places, then headed back towards her room to hop in the shower. The two aliens watched her go, and Garrus caught the way Liara's eyes lingered about Shepard's hips.

He cleared his throat, turning to Liara with a knowing grin. "So… Shepard's pretty cute. For a human."

Liara immediately knew that Garrus was teasing her; it was likely he had no idea what made a human conventionally attractive or not. "I assure you, I have no idea what you're insinuating, Officer Vakarian."

Garrus chuckled. "Just call me Garrus, Doctor. And if you didn't at least have an idea of what I was insinuating, how could you know I was insinuating anything?"

Liara flushed under that lazy grin and turned away with a huff. Later, when Shepard appeared from the bathroom with wet hair and incredibly loose clothing fitted with the C-Sec logo she headed straight for the kitchen to retrieve her food from the oven. She plopped down on the couch Liara was seated on, across from Garrus, and popped the container open. When she saw was what was inside, her eyes lit up. "Never thought I'd be so happy to see tacos!"

Liara would have to ask what "tacos" were later, perhaps after Shepard had finished inhaling them with a vigor that matched an Alpha varren's. Garrus seemed unfazed by Shepard's lack of table manners (not that she was seated at a table by any means). He was too busy fiddling with his omni-tool, blue eyes concentrated on something Liara was not at an angle to snoop upon. The asari's eye darted between the two, noting not for the first time that the two seemed strikingly similar in aura; they both gave off an aloof, detached air but just beneath the surface-level chill there was a definite warmth that made them both far more endearing than many of the people Liara had worked with in the past. Unlike Saren, whose detachment was born more from an absolute distaste for anything that inconvenienced him, Shepard and Garrus both allowed a certain level of familiarity to flavor their harsh exteriors. Humor to make up for the emotional unavailability. Where Saren was all mirrors, chilled glass revealing nothing and reflecting back any sign of weakness, Garrus and Shepard were walled fortresses with a fair number of drawbridges, accessible to those willing to take the time to find them.

"So Shepard," Garrus finally began without looking up from his interface, "You're trying to land a gig with a real merc band. I want to help. Make sure you don't get yourself killed, you know. Let's pretend you know the criminal underground of the Citadel better than I do for a moment. What would your first step be?"

"For joining a new crew?" Shepard asked, tongue darting out to catch a trail of… something that threatened to flee the taco and drip onto the plush couch. When Garrus hummed affirmatively, she pondered for a moment. "Well, first step would be to make myself seen. Liara already knows this, but the Reds are famous for up and ditching to join bigger, badder gangs. It's actually how we get most of our contracts. Our referral program is pretty sweet," she joked. "We're top dogs on Earth, but that doesn't really mean shit out here in the final frontier. Can't tell you how many of the guys from my own chapter up and joined Eclipse after they'd slept with their first asari dancer."

Shepard froze and sent Liara a worried glance; it was clear that she as terrified she may have offended the only asari she actually knew. Liara just waved the look away with an uncomfortable smile. She knew very well what most other species (particularly the male members of said species) thought of asari and their rebellious phases. Most asari were taught during schooling to let such comments roll off them. Short-lived races like humans and turians were always going to view that sort of lifestyle in a poor light because they didn't have the capacity to understand that a young asari could spend a century dancing in some dark, hole-in-the-wall club and barely put a dent in her lifespan. Many asari did it for fun, for the workout such intense cardio provided… and to master the art of espionage. It was a lucrative way to spend one's time, if Liara forced herself to admit it.

That didn't mean _she_ could ever see herself going down that particular route.

"Anyway…" Shepard started up again, finally drawing her eyes away from Liara and back to Garrus. "I'd honestly probably just head back to Pandora's Box and wait for someone from the old days to notice me. If we were on Earth I'd probably have a problem, considering word would have spread that I'd gotten bopped. Up here though, most people are just looking to make a quick buck wherever they can. Guarantee their first question will be 'you looking for work?' especially considering the whole… y'know. Unregistered biotic thing."

Garrus paused, finally breaking away from his omni-tool. "Pardon?"

Liara and Shepard shared a sidelong glance.

"…was I supposed to know that?" Garrus asked, genuinely curious. It was unlikely that he'd ever met a human biotic, and he was clearly expecting something more impressive than the cross-legged runt with food on her face sitting across from him.

Shepard shrugged. "I actually could've sworn you already knew, but I guess Liara left that part out when we caught Grim, in the event that it might have prevented her from yelling at me right away."

"That's not-"

"Easy, Liara. I'm only kidding." Shepard said in a manner that told Liara she was very much _not_ kidding as she got up to throw away the demolished food container. Whatever tacos were, they certainly smelled good. "Hey Garrus, if there's one thing we get done today I really need to know where the hell to buy food. I loathe to admit it, but I have no clue how asari cuisine works."

Garrus nodded. "No problem, I already asked the few humans on C-Sec payroll to put together a list for me,to add on to that 'Beginner's Guide to the Citadel' you asked for. They'll send it over and I can forward it over to you."

"Just how few is 'few,' exactly?" Shepard asked, returning to the couch with a beer in each hand.

"Three." Garrus quipped as he watched Shepard crack open her first beer. When Shepard heard his short response, she paused, clearly confused.

"That seems rather low, even for the Citadel." Liara mused, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

Garrus was doing a lot of shrugging today; it was an odd-looking motion for a seven-foot tall turian to make. Liara wondered where he might have picked it up, because it was very un-turian of him. Most turians showed their emotions through their mandibles with slight twitches or shifts. "The fact is that the only humans wealthy enough to make an impression out here are either Alliance officers or criminals. Alliance officers are too high and mighty for us, and… well I shouldn't have to explain the criminals. I almost wish Shepard here could've joined C-Sec. You're a lot more fun than ninety percent of my co-workers."

Shepard hummed, taking a sip of her beer before turning to look out the window. Not for the first time (nor was it the last) she thought about what the hell sorta mess she'd gotten herself into. She was a rat surrounded by aliens, and it was all she could do to suck down the alcohol and pretend that this was alright. She missed her dog.

 _My dog…_

Shepard's eyes widened. "Holy shit!"

Garrus and Liara both snapped their attention towards her, Liara jumping in her seat while Garrus shot up from his slouched position. "What is it?!" They demanded in unison.

"I totally forgot, I have a bag in an apartment in the Spartan District! That's where Finch, Adams, and I had set up basecamp." Shepard turned to Garrus with a smile, eyes bright. "We have to go get it. It's got clothes that I can actually wear out… not that these sweats are at all uncomfortable because _damn,_ and my toothbrush and this little address book full of old friends I can hit up for a solid." Shepard opened her mouth to continue, but paused. She realized that to a pair of aliens, with history and culture that pre-dated her own by thousands of years, the last item she'd yet to name might have seemed silly to get so worked up about. "It's… also got pictures in it. Of my dog… my first apartment… sentimental stuff. It might sound stupid but I really want them with me."

Garrus tilted his head, and the light reflected off of the curve of his fringe. He booted up his omni-tool and a few seconds later Shepard's own omni-tool dinged. Shepard shot him a confused stare, wondering if maybe her request had been so dim-witted that Garrus felt he could only properly reply over text. But when she went to her inbox, she found a surprise waiting for her that she'd completely forgotten about. "C-Sec finally finished going through your old omni-tool. We saved the pictures and videos of Brooklyn."

Shepard opened up the first attachment so fast she practically broke through the interface, and when the familiar snout of her favorite mutt in New York City filled the screen, she smiled.

Brooklyn had been her only real friend for about ten years. When she'd found him he'd actually bitten her in an attempt to get at the fast food she'd just bought. He couldn't have been more than three months old at the time, and he was the sort of scrappy only a mutt who lived off a steady supply of garbage could be. From his box-shaped head and wide shoulders she'd known he had some sort of bulldog in him, but only a blood test could have been sure and pedigree was lost on an intelligent dog lover like her so there had been no point. All that mattered was that she had a buddy to go on long walks with, a friend to greet her at the door, and a portable heater for when a job went bad and all she wanted to do was curl up under a blanket and pass out for eight hours.

The second attachment was a video of him chasing a bird that had gotten trapped in an old library. The Reds had used the place as a downtime lounge, turning the reception desk into a makeshift bar, and even though the proprietor had always pitched a fit when Shepard would walk in with Brooklyn tagging along behind, she never kicked them out. It only took ten minutes for Brooklyn to herd the bird out a window. Shepard liked to think he'd known what he was doing. He'd been sweet like that.

Out of the corner of her eye, Shepard saw Liara trying discretely to take a peek at her interface and couldn't help but smile. She scooted over so she sat right by Liara's side, taking a moment to enjoy the proximity that was no longer undercut with muted alarm. The oddity of having an alien for a roommate had been waning every day, and she knew proximity seemed to make Liara happy. "This was my dog, Brooklyn. He was my best friend for a long time back on Earth."

Liara nodded, eyes turning sad for a moment as she laid a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "The friend that passed just before you came here, I take it?" Her voice was soft, gentle.

Shepard nodded, an involuntary sniffle came up at the return of the memory of Brooklyn's final hours on Earth. He'd been a dork right up until the end, sprawled on his back with his feet up in the air like he was waiting for a belly rub. She'd given him one long after he'd stopped moving, and hoped that he could tell how much she was going to miss him.

"He's… quite rambunctious, isn't he?" Liara asked, watching the next video Shepard pulled up with that same gentle smile that she always seemed to wear whenever Shepard was close. Garrus watched the pair with warmth in his gaze. He'd already seen the pictures, already joked with his few friends at C-Sec by wondering aloud if all Earth's residents were equally as hairy. "What sort of animal is this?" Liara asked.

"Brooklyn was a dog, man's best friend. They come in all shapes and sizes; when my kind were still hunter-gatherer types they domesticated these big pack predators called wolves. Dogs are basically their great-great-great-great-grandkids."

"From what I can tell they're a lot like varren, but kid friendly and prone to excessive napping," Garrus told Liara.

"I see," Liara replied. When she saw the questioning glance Shepard shot her she said, "Varren come from Tuchanka, the krogan homeworld. They're quadruped pack animals as well, and they're most commonly raised for either racing or pit fighting. They of course are rarely treated as genuine companions, unlike your dogs."

Shepard turned back to the video. "Well, we do have dogs that are bred specifically for racing. And dog fighting _is_ a thing… it's just considered inhumane on Earth. Most people don't do it, and the people that do actually get their asses handed to them by other people if they get caught. We take our pets very seriously. Anyway," she shut down her omni-tool and leaned back into the couch to address Garrus. "If you're alright with it, first I say we loot the old apartment and get my stuff back. Finch and Adams aren't gonna be back there anytime soon, after all." The two acquaintances, turian and human, shared a knowing smirk. "Then, tonight I head on back to Pandora's Box and see what happens."

"Tonight?" Liara was surprised. "That's rather soon, don't you think?"

Shepard answered with a shrug, "Not really. It wouldn't make sense for me to lay low; anyone that saw me in Pandora's Box when we were after Grim already knows I'm on the Citadel. If I don't head back right away it'll look suspicious, especially once they realize that's Grim's been caught."

Garrus agreed, to Liara's dismay, and after some more planning and intel on Eclipse that Garrus hoped would help Shepard spot some viable ins he headed out, back to his actual job. He left them with a promise to visit soon. That left Shepard and Liara to themselves, and Liara worried at her lips before turning back to Shepard with hesitance in her bright blue eyes.

"Shepard, I thought we were going to start on some of _my_ research today." She tried to keep the disappointment from coloring her words but failed miserably.

"And we will! Did you think I forgot?" Shepard asked, reclining against the back of the couch like a woman who was not at all about to start yet another violent line of work. "It's only, like five in the morning. Depending on how long it takes for Garrus to get the go-ahead for the apartment search _and_ how long you let me nap, we'll have plenty of time to get started on whatever it is you want me to do. Then, probably after another nap, I can head out to the Box sometime around ten tonight. I'll even promise to be back by two; that way we can both get a decent night's sleep and tomorrow I'll be bright eyed and bushy tailed for a whole day of your science stuff."

To Liara, that sounded like an incredibly long, arduous day. Granted, she couldn't say she was innocent of running herself ragged, especially in the past when there had been term papers due, but the nonchalance with Shepard explained it all was slightly worrying. "I take it that… well, you're not used to a normal schedule, are you? Nor would you be, after the life you've lived." Liara dared to reach out and touch Shepard's knee, and she distracted herself with the softness of the material of the sweatpants Shepard had donned. She might want to ask if she could borrow a pair of these pants sometime soon, they were quite cozy-looking. "I apologize if I've offended you," she added as a hurried afterthought.

"You'd be right about that. Oh, well not the offending me part. But when you could get called in to take care of a client who's missed his last three payments at any time of the night, you learn to sleep in snatches, when you can." Shepard booted up her omni-tool and set to work typing something that Liara ignored the desire to snoop upon. "So feel free to work me to the bone, if it helps please his Majesty the Spectre."

The inappropriate thoughts that accompanied the idea of working Shepard to the point of exhaustion distracted Liara long enough for Shepard to send off her response to Morinth's invitation.

' _I might wander back that way tonight.'_

' _If I see you, I'll see you.'_

' _Shepard'_

' _P.S. Bonus points if you know anybody looking for guns to hire.'_

It took two hours for Garrus to get the go ahead to search the apartment. C-Sec had already gone through everything by the time Liara and Shepard got there, and most of the things that had belonged to Finch and Adams had been taken. Still, Shepard walked away with a decent supply of thermal clips, a stash of human ration bars, a bottle of whiskey, and all of the contents of her favorite duffel bag. A week's worth of clothes (plus her makeup bag), all still relatively clean, her toothbrush, her ancient little address book, and her photo album. A real photo album, not just a datapad loaded up with a set amount of digital images. A while back she'd managed to steal a refurbished Polaroid camera from some high and mighty merchant who had a passion for anything that wasn't digital, and even though she was horrible at it she forced herself to take pictures of the things she cared about. Holding something solid in your hands would never lose its appeal to Shepard, and something in her had always known she might leave Earth one day. It was just the way universe was headed. When that happened, she'd wanted to be able to bring a bit of Earth with her, and that ratty little photo album had been the answer.

Inside there were pictures of Brooklyn, including one taken on the very first day he'd slept in her bed with her when he was about a year old. There was a picture of her getting her first tattoo, her first boyfriend smiling at her from his bed… there were pictures of her favorite landmarks, including the view from the top of the Statue of Liberty. Her favorite picture in the album was of a sunset over the water. She'd taken that one at her favorite restaurant, just before she left for the Citadel. Looking at it instantly reminded her of every peaceful early morning or late night, when she actually got a second to breathe and stare at the sun.

After a long sleep-like-the-dead four hour nap Liara had woken her up for what felt like a week's worth of Prothean history lecturing. She'd never even heard of the Protheans before finding out she could somehow sometimes read their magic writing a week ago, and finding out that they were the ones who built the Mass Relays was actually pretty cool. Beyond that though, there were a total of two things she found mildly interesting about them. The first was that by the height of their civilization they controlled pretty much every planet in the galaxy, and the second was that they actually had more in common with the Ancient Egyptians than just similar writing styles. According to Liara, the most common form of Prothean artifacts found intact were small pyramids, covered in complex inscriptions and filled with any number of random everyday objects.

It was satisfying to spend about a half hour explaining the purpose of pyramids in Egyptian culture to a wide-eyed asari scientist, who then spent an fifteen minutes muttering to herself about possible connections.

And then the 'translating' session had started and within the hour Shepard had a raging headache once more. Her so-called ability to instantaneously comprehend Prothean symbols was something she had absolutely no control over. When she willed herself to do it, all she saw was gibberish. Liara had tried to be patient, but it was clear she'd been expecting to get something concrete to report to Saren. The complex markings and symbols shining up at her from the datapad Liara shoved beneath her nose made sense for just a split second. At first glance, every symbol had a clear meaning. Then, the very moment her brain tried to process what her optics nerves were sending to it, everything stopped. And the harder she tried (the more prodding she received from an overeager scholar) the more it felt like there was a knot somewhere in her brain that needed to be picked apart…

The only problem with that analogy was how irritatingly accurate it seemed. This knot in her skull desperately wanted to be loosened, but the longer she'd focused on the funky pictures the tighter it was pulled. After an eternity of no progress at all, Shepard had growled and thrown the datapad down onto the table. She rose with a muttered curse, immediately sorry for the flinch the act brought out of Liara. She knew then that this was going to be a long, arduous process, because in the instant her eyes caught the screen from the very edges of her peripheral vision, it happened again. Everything had made sense.

Her voice was quiet, her eyes unfocused. "…a cycle of death we pray the primitives will end." The words sent a shiver down her spine.

Liara had stared up at her, wide-eyed, but Shepard needed to get changed and get over the bizarre feeling that had slithered through her when it felt like her brain had been suddenly hijacked. She'd offered some half-assed half-truth excuse about her pounding headache and taken her second shower of the day. She took plenty of time getting ready, more than she'd truly needed to, but it had been a while since she'd had an excuse to look nice and she was incredibly out of practice when it came to liquid liner. And eye shadow. And highlighter.

Shepard had missed wearing her own clothes more than she ever thought possible. The familiarity of a clean, black guinea tee was more comforting than a hot bath, and even though she decided to keep the (admittedly kickass) boots Liara had bought for her, a fresh pair of socks made the experience all the better. Her leather jacket went on next, because as she'd told Wrex, it went where she went. Truth be told, she wasn't actually sure whether or not it had been made in Milan. She didn't particularly care. But someone very precious to her had given her that jacket, and she treasured it above most things. It took her a few minutes to decide between a pair of jeans and what she called her 'sexy legs,' a skin-tight pair of black leather leggings that clung everywhere they needed to and were surprisingly breathable everywhere else. Deciding that all-black might have been too bold, she stuck with the jeans. Human fashion designers had made a number of modifications to the classic denim material, allowing it to keep in heat and give it some extra stretch, making it space-worthy.

When she emerged from her room a few hours later, fiddling with an old sailor's knot braid she wore on her wrist whenever she needed luck (it was one of those possessions you'd always had but didn't remember getting), Liara had been waiting for her in the kitchen. Shepard had just been planning on grabbing a beer and a ration bar, but the asari had looked like a maiden on a mission. There had been an apology that died on Liara's lips the second she saw Shepard in all her done-up glory. Shepard could be a bit of a scruffy mess, but she knew she cleaned up nice. The stunned look on Liara's face was enough to make Shepard smirk as she strolled past, blissfully unaware of the new wiggle in her walk that Liara's attention inspired. Shepard couldn't help but think: _Just wait until I get my hands on some argan oil and I can actually do my hair._ Liara watched her go with a longing gaze, trying to think of _any_ plea she could make to get Shepard to stay in and explain how a simple, slick black line could make her eyes _so_ appealing.

Shepard would never tell.

After another quick call with Garrus, a refresher course in who Eclipse was and what areas they focused in, it was soon time for Shepard to head out on her own. Liara was terrified that something awful was going to happen, and she wasn't sure if she should hide in her room or wait by the door to wish Shepard luck. Which option was the less desperate one?

Surprisingly, Shepard made her job easy by relieving her of the decision altogether. Liara had retreated to her work space (aka the entire second floor, but in specific we're talking about the upstairs sitting area) and was researching human beauty regimens. She was pretty sure she had found the specific tool Shepard had used to make her eyes cat-like (a phrase she'd discovered during her research that was… surprisingly apt) and dark when the human appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hey, Liara?"

"Yes?" Liara answered in a hurried, frenzied manner as she immediately closed (hid) the window she had pulled up. She tried to act natural as Shepard sauntered over in her incredibly distracting outfit that the young asari was probably going to have to become used to now that Shepard had her own clothes again. The human looked concerned, head cocked to the side as she lingered at the far end of the couch.

"I just wanted to give you a heads up that I'm leaving," Shepard said.

Liara nodded, unable to force a convincing smile. "I see. Well…" she stood, hands clasped behind her back in a nervous manner, uncertainty making her movements fidgety and uneasy. "Be safe!" She was too loud, too forceful. If she was trying to come off as supportive and not terrified for Shepard's well-being at all she was doing a poor job at best.

Shepard stepped closer and reached out to put a hand on Liara's shoulder. "Trust me, I'll be fine. I've got years of gang life behind me to make me seem intimibdating, and you to make sure I get home by curfew." She smiled that lazy smile, and Liara's heart fluttered in her chest. "The thought of you waiting up for me, unnecessarily worried out of your mind, will be enough to keep me on the straight and narrow. And if anyone tries to mess with me I can always call Wrex. I'm sure he'd come to my rescue if I bought him a drink or ten."

Liara allowed herself a smaller, truer smile. "For having only known me a week, you know me quite well."

It wasn't that Shepard knew her well in truth, Shepard pondered to herself later as she hailed a skycar. Liara was just easy to read, like an open book. It was clear that she considered herself Shepard's new mother hen, fretting over her safety and all, but she was woefully naïve to the way most of the world worked and was only just starting to learn how little control she had over the things around her.

"She is cute, I'll give her that…" Shepard muttered to herself as she hopped out of the car, a fair distance from the club. She wanted the few extra minutes of walking to psyche herself up and flip through her little black book just one more time so she had an idea of who she could try calling. She knew Donovan was on the Citadel, or at least he had been when he'd last contacted Earth. Henry could be hanging around; if she saw Karen somewhere then she'd know he was somewhere nearby for sure. The two were practically inseparable, had been since they'd gotten married before they left for space.

The bouncer (the guy responsible _not_ for checking ID but for throwing out the piss-drunk fools that dared to start a fight inside the bar) waved her in carelessly, too distracted by the argument he was currently having with his turian co-worker to pay her any mind.

Pandora's Box was just as muggy as she remembered, but less crowded than it had been the night before. She was able to snag a table all to herself relatively quickly and wave over a server. The server was an older blonde with almost enough bust to fill out the low-cut shirt she was wearing, and the smile she gave Shepard was also almost genuine. Shepard didn't mind the cool aloofness the waitress presented to her; the table full of Alliance peons not ten feet away had probably been cat-calling her all night just as they were doing at that moment. Shepard silently prayed the bartender on duty was legit and asked for a dark and stormy. When the waitress, (Barbra?) nodded and hurried away Shepard hoped she'd come back with an actual drink and not a pre-mixed test tube full of piss like most of the aliens in the club seemed to be favoring.

"Hey, Carapace? So far so good," Shepard spoke at a volume just below ear level, as Garrus had taught her. His musical tones sounded in her ear a moment later. He'd insisted on walking her through her first night out on the town alone, probably because he'd yet to actually see her in action. Shepard was sure that once he saw her in a bar fight he'd trust that she could actually handle herself. She was also sure that he was probably just bored on the job and found her night to be the more exciting one.

" _Good, now if you could stop calling me that I'd be forever grateful."_

"We'll see…" she trailed off because she spied Barbra coming back with what looked like an actual drink in an actual glass, to her immeasurable relief.

"Can I grab you anything else, hun?" Was that a Southern twang Shepard was detecting?

"Not to be awkward, but you wouldn't happen to be from back home, would you? I have to admit, I've missed the accents." Shepard grinned and when the waitress seemed to get that Shepard was attempting to give her a compliment some of the tension eased from her shoulders.

"Sure am, sugar. Sweet of you to ask. I take it you're fresh off the big blue yourself? Most kids we get your age through here are either off the boat or with the Alliance." She cast a glance towards her other tables, pretty much all filled with Alliance boys, and sighed. "It's the worst when they're both. Look, you just wave me over when you need a top-up, okay? Mack's happy to be mixing real cocktails for a change, and when he's happy my shift flies by."

"Yes ma'am," Shepard saluted with a nod and a sip of her drink. Whoever Mack was, he knew good ginger beer when he saw it. Barbra hurried away with a friendly pat to Shepard's shoulder and then the nervous human was alone again. For a while she waited and watched as the crowd shifted and traded in drunkards for sober kids aiming to leave the club in a state more akin to those they passed on their way inside. It was weird to be freely surrounded by her own kind again, without an alien to look after or take orders from. It was a bit odd that there were Alliance soldiers hanging out in a club that was, from what she understood, chock-full of criminals though. Maybe they came here looking to start fights? Snag some off-shore glory for helping to put away some cartel kids? She had no idea how this whole space-merc business was going to work, but if that was card she'd drawn she'd do her best to play it.

"What's a lovely lady like yourself doin' looking so lonely?"

 _Oh boy…_

A strapping young blonde slid into the booth opposite her, his Alliance uniform long past crisp and clean. He sent a thumbs up towards a nearby table, his friends Shepard assumed, and turned back to her with what he surely hoped was a charming smile. He had a beer in his hand but nothing else; and Shepard was relieved she wasn't going have to politely refuse a drink.

"Waiting for a friend," Shepard offered, not unkindly.

"Mind if I wait with you?" the young man asked, eyeing her the way a frat boy eyed a sorority pledge. "Or you could come sit with me and my guys, just over that way."

Shepard caught the whistles and grins from the table he gestured to and fought back an amused grin. When it came down to it, all guys were the same. Straight guys, at least. Whether they were serving in the military or a part of the gang that picked them up off the street, they always wanted female company. Most of the time it was as harmless as it was irritating (very much so), and she had to admit that if she wasn't a lady on a mission she probably would have said yes without much of a thought. But it wouldn't do for her to be seen hanging around a bunch of marines if she was trying to get back in to the criminal underworld, so she gave the guy another polite smile and leaned in. "I'll tell you what. If my friend doesn't show up by the time I finish this drink I will gladly come join you and your friends. Would that be okay?"

The blonde blinked at her in surprise; he had clearly not been expecting her to be nice about rejecting him. "Uh… sure! Sure, that's totally cool. The name's Richard, by the way! Richard Jenkins, proud recruit of the Alliance marines!" And he did look rather proud of himself, didn't he? He reached across the table for a handshake, which Shepard accepted out of habit. "What's your name?"

Shepard went to reply but she was interrupted by a familiar purr that made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. "Shepard…"

Jenkins' eyes had gone wide, his jaw dropping practically to the floor. He looked caught between lust and disgust, which was definitely not a flattering look on the poor boy's face.

A body slid into the booth next to her, and Shepard gulped when a long leg clad in skin-tight, black material came into her line of vision. Shepard played off her surprise and general feelings of 'holy-shit-what-do-I-do-now' with a _long_ sip of her cocktail. An arm alighted along the booth behind Shepard's head, so close she could feel the energy crackling off it. She felt trapped in a delectable way, and when she finally turned to meet Morinth's pleased smile she understood that there would be no escaping this creature tonight.

"Glad you could make it," Morinth began, her voice as hypnotizing as the eyes that had likely held many a man (and many a woman) hostage long before Shepard had even been born. "I was afraid I'd scared you away." The two helpless humans watched on as Morinth plucked Shepard's drink from her hand and sampled it for herself, the pleased hum she released shooting straight to Shepard's no-no places. Instead of returning it, she turned a decidedly chilled gaze onto Jenkins and the poor kid looked like he was going to wet himself. "Thank you for keeping Shepard company for me, but your services are no longer required." She took a dramatic pause to sample Shepard's drink again and somehow situate herself even _closer_ to the human's side. "So why don't you run along?"

Jenkins cast a helpless look towards Shepard, looking almost betrayed by the arrival of the asari. Shepard could only shrug and offer an 'it was nice meeting you,' before the disheartened marine shot up from his chair and hurried back to the safety of his comrades. All of the marines that had been looking Shepard's way were now much more subdued, some glaring at Morinth and some glaring at _Shepard._ That was surprising.

She didn't have long to dwell on things.

Shepard jumped when she felt a hand teasing through her hair, and moved to put some semblance of space between herself and the asari watching her with stormy blue eyes. Speaking of stormy…

"You're buying me a new one, you know." Shepard quipped, nodding towards her stolen cocktail. Morinth chuckled at that and turned to wave over a server, but to Shepard's disappointment it wasn't the Southern sweetheart that arrived. Instead, an asari that was more purple than blue ( _I didn't know they came in different colors,_ Shepard thought to herself) sauntered up and gave Morinth a smile that was far more forced than she probably meant it to be.

"Tulissa, ask the human server to transfer Shepard's tab upstairs. And let Fraig know I'll be up in a moment, with a guest." Morinth turned back to Shepard with a wicked curve to her lips. "You _will_ be joining me in the VIP area tonight, isn't that right?"

It was a demand more than it was a question, Shepard knew that. So she didn't bother resisting when she was pulled up out of her seat and through throngs of people. The blue hand encircling her wrist felt like a promise, a promise that she would not be leaving this club tonight without _something_ happening that Liara probably wouldn't be too comfortable with.

As she passed the bar on their way upstairs, she caught Barbra's eye. She looked alarmed, almost dropping her tray of drinks when she saw just who Shepard was going upstairs with. Shepard narrowed her eyes, confused, and almost stopped to ask the older woman what was wrong. The server looked downright _terrified_.

* * *

 _Morinth is so damn fun. Shepard is so damn in for it._

 _Next time on CotC: Shepard gets introduced, Liara tries for more, and Garrus continues to be the best goddamn wingman in Council space._

 _-Cel_


	7. Chapter 7

**Pandora's Box | Citadel | September 16** **th** **2174**

The VIP area definitely screamed 'VIP,' way before they were even actually inside. The second floor was brighter and cleaner, and the clientele became far less… pedestrian the closer they got to the bouncer-guarded entrance. The bulky krogan at the door nodded his head respectfully to Morinth when she passed, and eyed Shepard with an amused glint in his sickly green eyes. The look sent a shiver down her spine and she had the oddest feeling that she was in way over her head. Extremely over her head. Like, so over her head that she might as well be upside down.

Neon lights mixed with overhead black light, which was definitely a human design choice, and the effect gave every asari in the club an ethereal glow.

…but what was distinctly _not_ human was the sheer number of lithe asari strutting about the place.

Shepard counted a dozen within her first five steps, and after another five steps she gave up trying to count. They dipped in and out of the black lights, appearing and reappearing like mirages that were as deadly as they were beautiful. Many were armed. To the teeth. And they vastly outnumbered any other race in the room. She didn't have long to admire the view before Morinth gave a sharp tug on her wrist and Shepard was ushered towards a private table. The music was different up here; beats and chord progressions she had recognized downstairs gave way to bizarre, pulsating rhythms that, to be frank, were a little off-putting to Shepard's human ears. The various asari sauntering about the bar seemed to be in tune with it though, from the subtle hip swiveling and head bobbing going on.

Shepard's eyes narrowed when she saw a trio of asari in what looked like reflective yellow armor (colors were hard to differentiate under the enhanced light) lurking not twenty feet away, eyeing her up like a piece of meat. Shepard still wasn't used to seeing so many armored civilians walking around like they packed an extra forty pounds of fiberglass on the daily. Unlike most of the asari she'd met, these three were mean-spirited and nasty, she could tell just from the looks in their eyes. One of the three pointed to Morinth and muttered something behind a cupped hand. The two dunces with her immediately started to snigger.

Shepard's lip curled instinctively and her shoulders squared. She'd been in the VIP section all of thirty seconds and she was already raring to fight somebody. The Citadel was a lot like Earth, after all.

"You know those three?" Shepard questioned, and Morinth paused to look back towards her. She followed Shepard's gaze and to Shepard's surprise, the three asari instantly shrunk to half their original size the moment Morinth turned her oceanic gaze their way. Morinth hummed to herself before beckoning for Tulissa to come forward. Shepard jumped, only now realizing that the purple asari had been following along behind them. Morinth and Tulissa shared a few quiet words, Morinth's features as gorgeous and untroubled as ever. She nodded towards the bar and then Tulissa was off.

"I don't," Morinth said with a dangerous grin, tugging once more at Shepard's wrist. "But Tulissa does. This way," she gently but unapologetically demanded that Shepard come along. Soon Shepard found her rear sinking into the plush black leather of a VIP table, Morinth sliding in beside her. Did all asari lack a sense of personal space? Even Liara had a habit of unabashedly staring or stepping closer when she and Shepard were talking. Sometimes she did it even when they weren't talking. But it was a little different with Liara, it felt more honest. Like she truly didn't realize she was doing it. Morinth on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing. She crossed her legs and slid a crisp, immaculate drink menu Shepard's way. "So Shepard, now that I have you all to myself… how about another one of those charming stories you told me the last time we were together?"

Right. Morinth probably thought Greek mythology was quaint. _Oh, look at the little infant humans and their 'history.' How cute. You know, I think my great-grandmother was still young when the dinosaurs were around._ There were probably a handful of asari in this room alone that had already given birth to a child or two before Shepard's own _country_ had ever broken away from British rule. That was both amazing and alarming all at once. To distract herself from the thought train getting ready to leave her brain station, Shepard picked up the menu. Thankfully there wasn't a single cocktail that wasn't human in origin, and halfway through a brief skim an ingredient caught her eye. Shepard grinned and relaxed back into the booth. The body heat of the creature next to her was incredibly distracting, and she didn't miss the hungry gleam in Morinth's gaze. But she knew exactly which myth she was going to tell, and couldn't help but chuckle.

"And what is it about my request that's so amusing, Shepard?"

"Nothing," Shepard replied, placing the menu down and looking for a server to wave over. "It's just that the story I'm thinking of and the position I'm in right now aren't all that different."

Morinth cocked her head with measured grace and watched as a human server, a young redheaded woman that did a much better job of filling out her uniform but lacked the authenticity of the tired bartender Shepard had met downstairs, came up and Shepard ordered two of the same drink. "If this… _position_ you're in is so uncomfortable I'm sure we could find another."

Shepard actually laughed, her cheeks tinged pink. "I so set myself up for that." Morinth watched the human run a hand through her hair and her own fingers twitched with the memory of it against her own skin. She enjoyed Shepard's hair; it was one of the features that had first attracted her attention. Most of the humans she'd met kept their own hair short because it was allegedly hard to maintain in space. Something about the necessary dryness of the air and the expense of importing the essential oils. Shepard, on the other hand, kept hers long. It was shiny and sleek, soft. Maybe this was because Shepard was still fresh off the boat, so to speak. "I didn't mean it quite so literally." Shepard crossed her own legs and folded her hands in her lap. "Does the asari home world have seasons? Summer, winter, that sort of thing?"

Morinth nodded. "No matter where we settle, we make sure the winters are brief. With very few exceptions, it never stays cold for long. We are not… well-suited to the cold." Very few exceptions indeed. And those exceptions were usually places the high and mighty Matriarchs preferred to forget.

"Well, remember how I said the ancient Greeks used myths in place of science? According to them, Earth had seasons because the Goddess of the Harvest had her daughter stolen from her."

Morinth blinked in surprise. So, the humans had Goddesses as well? From what she understood of the short-lived creatures the majority of their societies were patriarchal, so it was always a pleasant surprise to hear stories about females. "Well, that's quite the hook. You're a very good story teller, Shepard." A blue hand alighted on Shepard's knee, "Please, continue."

Shepard eyed the hand idly playing with the fabric of her jeans, one eyebrow raised. "…Demeter was the Goddess of Harvest. It was her job to make sure the Earth stayed fertile, so crops could grow and the creatures could flourish. She had a beautiful daughter, named Persephone. Now, Persephone was very beautiful. Extremely beautiful. So beautiful that Hades, the lonely God of the Underworld, decided that he wanted her to be his wife."

"The Underworld?" Morinth questioned.

Shepard nodded. "The Underworld was the land of the dead, where spirits went when their physical bodies died. There's a whole slew of myths dedicated to it, if you wanna hear those next."

"Perhaps. It sounds intriguing… and I imagine that Demeter didn't take well to her daughter's disappearance. Mothers rarely do." Morinth's certainly hadn't… but that was for another reason entirely. Shepard foolishly took the unsettling smirk that graced Morinth's face as a sign of well-meant humor. It was not.

Shepard chuckled, "You'd be right about that. See, when Hades got it in his head that he was going to marry Persephone, angry mother-in-law or not, he was smart enough to ask Zeus for permission first. Zeus was the king of the gods, and if he gave his blessing there would be nothing Demeter could do about it. I know, right? And Zeus, being the irresponsible jerk that he sort of was, said 'sure, go ahead.' So one day, while Persephone and her handmaidens were out picking flowers, Hades lured her away from her friends with a beautiful flower. It bloomed especially for her, and the moment she touched it a great chasm opened up in the earth and Hades rose up from the Underworld. He carried her away, and they were wed."

"And Persephone consented to this?"

Shepard shrugged. "The stories don't really touch on that. Back then women didn't really have a lot of say when it came to marriage… at least not usually. The Spartans in Greece were better about that sort of thing, but I think they came later?"

Inequality of such a nature was a foreign concept to Morinth, and to asari in general. How could one bless a joining ceremony without the consent of both parties? And what was consent really if it was forced? I could be considered ironic that _she_ of all people would say so, but it didn't invalidate her opinion.

The turians still actively participated in arranged marriages, salarians didn't know anything _other_ than arranged marriages (if they could even be called that), and even the most cursory glance of human history confirmed that one sex was usually treated unfairly during any given era. To her people, monogendered as they were, it seemed stupidly cruel to force your own population into misery for the sake of child-rearing. Especially for creatures that could bear children so easily, Morinth couldn't help but think to herself. The thought risked souring her mood, so she pushed back against the swell of eternal, black bitterness that stirred in her mind. She motioned for Shepard to continue with a light squeeze of the warm knee within her grasp. The dark asari grinned at the slight jump the pressure elicited from the young human.

"It didn't take long for Demeter to realize her daughter was missing, and naturally she was distraught. Her and her followers traveled far and wide, looking high and low for poor Persephone. All the while the poor thing was miserable in the Underworld, and here's the twist: Hades was actually made sadder for it! He hadn't wanted her to be miserable, not at all. She was meant to relieve _his_ loneliness, and seeing her so depressed was painful. But what could he do?"

To Morinth's eyes, Shepard looked to be caught up in her own story, enjoying the nostalgia and familiarity of discussing something so uniquely human. The temperature of her gaze was soft and gentle and her posture was relaxed. Rather than trying either to avoid her gaze or drown in it, as Morinth's prey usually did, Shepard observed the goings-on around them with mild attentiveness.

On the inside however, Shepard was taking notes. Pandora's Box was definitely not a place for people that didn't know how to shoot guns. There was a young (and very nouveau-riche looking) couple on what could have been a first date a few tables over, both of them looking like they would have been far more comfortable in armor than the expensive clubbing clothes they were actually wearing. The young man had some nasty scars above his right eye, and the girl looked haggard. Ex-mercs, maybe? The bartenders, most of them human with one blue exception, all looked vaguely uncomfortable when they waited on the blue aliens. And all of said aliens, dipping in and out of the black light like bio-luminescent fish in a bass thumping coral reef, acted like they owned the place. Most of them were wearing some variation of that yellow fiberglass armor.

 _Definitely a crew…_

She needed to divert Morinth's attention and ask Garrus a question.

"You know… not to change the subject but downstairs it took me about thirty seconds to get a drink. This is the VIP section, you'd think they'd be even faster." She made a great show of looking around, as if she might actually have been able to tell where their server was in the black-lit mad crowd. "Want me to ask the bartender what's up?"

Shepard's inquiry was honest, the openness in her gaze foreign to her companion and the returning glance that Morinth gave her was strange. The asari seemed almost… confused. Not by the realization that, yes, they were still without drinks, but by the fact that Shepard was… what? Suggesting that she'd be willing to get up and leave the asari's company? Was that really such an impossibility?

"What?" Shepard asked innocently, her naturally dark eyes almost black in the neon setting. Shepard could only hope that the lighting would make her harder to read, because she didn't feel very confident in her ability to keep control of the situation. She was only barely maintaining it already. Part of her was hoping that Morinth would get bored of her and let her wander back downstairs like the puny human the asari likely assumed that she was. Dealing with half-drunk human guys was much easier than trying to figure out if an asari was planning on eating you alive after the second drink. It helped that human guys _couldn't_ do that in the first place, unless magic was somehow still real.

Morinth's brow furrowed, and though she lacked eyebrows it was all too easy for Shepard to picture them narrowed at her. They'd probably be perfect, Shepard mused. It seemed that everything else about this chick was, the eyebrows might as well have matched. Finely groomed and delicately arched.

Thinking of eyebrows made Shepard think of Liara. Liara had eyebrows, sort of. They were apparently akin to birthmarks, at least that was what Shepard had managed to pull from the very scientific explanation Liara had given her. Shepard couldn't help but wonder why the asari would have human-like facial markings. Was it just coincidence? They seemed oddly specific. Liara was young compared to other asari… maybe it was an evolutionary thing? She hadn't met many asari, so she wouldn't know how to tell them apart by age. They all looked relatively ageless, but maybe older asari were more likely to have less human-looking quirks. After all, any asari born before humans had ever made it off Earth wouldn't have had any need to mimic their facial expressions...

She'd have to ask Liara about it. It was going to drive her nuts.

"…that won't be necessary." Morinth began, and her tone was almost unsure. She stood abruptly, as abruptly as a creature that could have been spun from sapphire silk could manage. "Resist any urges to run off again, Shepard. Because I will catch you."

From the way every asari in the club immediately suffered from whiplash when they turned to shoot her curious glances as Morinth sauntered away, Shepard was sure that even if she wanted to leave it was highly unlikely that she'd be able to do it quietly. She narrowed her eyes at one particularly obvious asari that was unabashedly staring at her with amusement from across the room. Shepard's lip curled in a scowl, and her temper twitched in indignation when the asari blew her a kiss. Only the likely biased opinion that every asari in the building would probably leap at the chance to defend one of their own from a "savage" human kept her in her seat.

Shepard turned away from the giggling gaggle of blue ladies at the bar and activated her COMM piece. "Hey Vakarian, this is getting weird." She whispered, pretending to fiddle with the drink menu once more. "I'm starting to feel like Liara's the only asari that _isn't_ a smug creep."

" _Where are you? What's going on?"_ his strange voice toned in her ear. She said strange, but honestly Shepard kind of enjoyed the way turian voices seemed to tickle in your ear drums as you listened. It was oddly satisfying.

"I'm in the VIP section. There's asari everywhere, and I've never felt more like a specimen in a display case." Shepard grumbled quietly.

" _Really? …but Pandora's Box is a human owned-and-operated business, tucked away in a heavily-populated human section of the lowest-class ward. The asari have an entire arm of the Citadel to themselves to facilitate their debauchery, why take over some hole-in-the-wall human establishment? Your liquor can't be_ that _good."_

"Clearly you've never had gin." Shepard snorted. "But you're the big bad detective, Carapace. You tell me." Garrus was silent in her ear for a moment, and Shepard figured now would be an appropriate time to figure out where Morinth had gone. She looked towards the bar first, and was relieved to actually see a tray of drinks being sent their way because she was definitely going to need alcohol if things carried on the way they were. But Morinth's alluring silhouette was absent from the bar, so Shepard kept looking.

She finally found her on the opposite end of the VIP section, speaking with another asari. This asari was not like the others; even from here Shepard could sense the air of authority, the commanding presence. No other asari in the room looked quite so… relaxed. So at home. So very much like she owned the place. Morinth's air of superiority was different. Her self-assurance came from the knowledge that she'd have little trouble disposing of anybody daring to threaten her good time, which Shepard had no doubt she'd be able to do. But the blue asari Morinth was speaking with now, skin a dusky tone of blue so dark it was almost navy, looked a lot like a smug lion observing the lionesses from on high: Scar, the Disney villain, meets Uma Thurman from Kill Bill.

"Do asari have, like, pecking orders?" Shepard asked. Garrus did not understand the expression. Shepard watched as the two predators seemed to discuss something, lowly. Occasionally the navy asari's eyes would dart away, and once they even drifted towards her. Shepard pretended not to notice. Morinth was standing with her back to Shepard, but after the dusky blue asari gave a lazy nod to whatever she'd said Morinth turned and was on her way back to their table. "Look, my meal ticket is on her way back but all I know is there's at least two dozen asari in here, all wearing yellow armor. And the most important looking one is just across the bar, wearing the world's most self-satisfied grin. Deep, slightly purple-ish navy color from what I can tell."

" _Yellow? Are you sure? You can't possibly be_ that _lucky."_

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Shepard grumbled, nodding politely to the human waitress that finally arrived with their drinks. She tried not to wonder why the waitress seemed awfully glad to get _away_ from the table before Morinth had returned. "How exactly does being on the menu make me lucky?"

Garrus' amused hum in her ear was infuriating. " _Yellow armor is an Eclipse thing. You may have just stumbled right into the welcoming arms of your next career path, Shepard."_

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Shepard." Shepard froze. Morinth was back. Her lithe form slid back into the booth and her presence this time around was even more insistent than before, the look in her eyes decidedly more calculated and inquisitive.

Shepard hummed nonchalantly, busy trying to process what Garrus had suggested and wondering if every human that came to the Citadel had to deal with this crap. Urdnot Wrex just _happens_ to suggest that she try and get in with Eclipse, then not a week later she just _happens_ to wind up in one of their secret watering holes? Good lord. Was Morinth a member?

"No worries, while you were gone our drinks came."

"I can see that," Morinth replied smoothly. "But I see you haven't sampled yours yet?"

"I was waiting until you came back," Shepard supplied. At Morinth's questioning tilt of the head Shepard's lips quirked upwards in a grin. "Must just be a human thing. It's considered rude to begin a meal without all parties present."

"But this is a drink."

"And we're in a bar, not a restaurant. It's pretty much their version of a meal."

Morinth watched her for a moment, expression unreadable. She seemed to do that frequently. Could asari read minds? Is that what was happening? Would Shepard even be able to tell? Shepard met Morinth's gaze as evenly as she could, despite the uncomfortable fluttering in her lower abdomen that tasted of attraction and tension. A power play was a power play, no matter how sexy. And of all the asari she'd met, cursory or otherwise, Morinth was inarguably number one on the 'I will literally eat you for breakfast if you let me' list. For now, she seemed more interested in finding out more about Shepard, and even if her interest in Greek mythology was more a tactic to keep Shepard talking than it was an actual curiosity it was still something that Shepard could use to her advantage.

Shepard broke the stare-off first. As beautiful and charming as Morinth was she seemed to lack a basic grasp of appropriate social conduct, like she wasn't used to people actually insisting on having a vertical conversation with her. Shepard supposed that that was entirely possible; if human promiscuity was anything to go by then Morinth probably got a _lot_ of horizontal attention. And she probably enjoyed it.

 _Which makes me wonder, how do asari flirt with each other?_ Shepard mused to herself. _They're all the same gender, right? How do they determine who they're attracted to?_

Because honestly, any of the asari in here were probably far more capable of actually engaging with Morinth in a more stimulating manner than Shepard was. They could talk Galactic news, the economy, the weather… all those charming bullshit small talk subjects.

The sound of a glass clinking against hers broke Shepard from her pondering. Shepard blinked rapidly, shaking her head slightly and looking down towards the table. Her drink was still there, reflecting swirling sparks of purple and red back at her, and when she glanced to her left Morinth was taking a long taste of her own. Apparently, she'd gotten tired of waiting on Shepard. That was fair.

"I keep losing you," the asari quipped nonchalantly. It probably would have succeeded in being more nonchalant if Shepard thought for even a second that Morinth had experience with people that were less than 100% interested in her. Her blue eyes drifted back up to Shepard's, stopping off at every possible checkpoint (i.e. cleavage, throat, lips) on the way up. The warmth in between Shepard's legs was slowly becoming more insistent about being acknowledged. "One might think that you'd rather be somewhere else…" the asari purred.

Well, _that_ was a challenge if Shepard had ever heard one.

Shepard allowed herself a guilty smile and sighed. Reaching out for her drink and finally quenching one of her current thirsts, she admitted something that Garrus probably wouldn't have wanted her to admit. But honesty was the best policy, in Shepard's humble opinion. Lies tasted better when they were seasoned with a little bit of truth. "Well, you see normally I would be hanging all over you, but it's been a stressful week." She smacked her lips together, because _damn_ that drink was as tart as it was delicious, before continuing. "Would you believe me if I said I got arrested?"

Morinth paused with her drink halfway to her lips, not quite surprised but intrigued. "I'd find it hard to believe. You seem… and don't take this the wrong way, rather innocent." That _had_ been one of the reasons Morinth had first been intrigued. A tiny human, talking with a krogan in a bar heavily populated by criminals? She'd been impossible to resist.

Shepard laughed, teeth flashing bright white under the black light. Innocent? Not for a long time. Light-hearted? Sure. The two could often be confused until you actually got to know the person you were trying to seduce. "It's true! I came to the Citadel because I was in a gang, and said gang was trying to expand. Hoping to eventually make it somewhere big, some rock with a mathematical name… I forget. But my idiot brothers-in-arms reeked of Red Sand, so C-Sec came after us right away and the idiots let me take the hit for them. I was pissed. I'd been here for all of 72 hours and I got bopped. I technically hadn't even done anything illegal in Citadel space yet."

 _Hah. Yet._ Garrus was probably going to yell at her later.

Morinth, on the other hand, looked amused. And right now impressing Morinth was more important than keeping Garrus happy. She wasn't even sure if he could hear any of this. So long as she got results, and she figured she just might if this kept on going, he wouldn't fuss at her.

"If you were in C-Sec custody just a few days ago, how are you sitting here with me today?" Morinth asked, and she did seem rather pleased that Shepard _was_ here with her. Her touch had traveled upwards along Shepard's thigh and the slight curve of her lips was as encouraging as the look in her darkening eyes was heated.

"I gave my brothers up, of course." Shepard offered, as though the answer was obvious. Betrayal wasn't really a word that carried a lot of weight in her vocabulary, at least not on a personal level. She knew that some people took it very seriously, but most of them were in the marines. Straight-laced. The Reds had kept her alive and fed and funded, and that's a debt she would never forget. But that was a debt to an organization, not a low-life pair of crooks that gave _her_ up the second the moment presented itself. She'd never endanger the Reds' ability to keep orphans fed, at least not on Earth where the help was most sorely needed, but when it came to the members of the crew itself (most of them guilty of far more than what the colors asked of them) there was hardly a reason to stick her own neck out.

Ah, but now Morinth looked a little suspicious. That wasn't good. "Just like that?" Her guard was coming up, and Shepard couldn't blame her. If the story ended there it _would_ sound an awful lot like she was hiding something. And she was, naturally, but Morinth didn't need to know that. Shepard reached out and laid her hand over Morinth's, daring to thread their fingers together. Morinth allowed it to happen and the human's touch, the confirmation of interest, made the suspicion slide away. The asari tightened her hold, and her gaze dropped. As Shepard continued her explanation, Morinth put her drink back down and the asari's free hand came up to play with the human's fingers. They were fine, fragile, one could almost _see_ the bones hiding underneath that soft skin.

"The officer I encountered made his… opinion of humans very clear. I knew I wasn't going to be able to talk my way out of anything, but I figured I could offer them a bigger fish. The two guys I came here with, they were the ones carrying the Sand. That's what the Reds trade in, in case you hadn't already picked that up. Hence their name." She paused to rotate her wrist, showing Morinth the ink on her forearm. The black and red skull stared up at them both, bright and glowing almost hot pink under the lights. Shepard could tell right away that Morinth liked it. Everyone was a sucker for good tattoos, deep down. Apparently that was true across different species. "Plus, I reminded them that I hadn't technically done anything wrong. They couldn't smell the sand on me, hadn't seen me do anything illegal, so they could either go to the trouble of making paperwork disappear to keep me in a cell _or_ let me lead them to some real dealers and let me go. And, despite how adorable I'd look in prison regs, they picked Option 2."

Morinth hummed with a grin. "You are rather charming. So these… Reds, are you still affiliated with them? Any plans to join back up... or maybe get revenge?"

Shepard shook her head. "Not the revenging sort, and I had to cut ties when I gave up the boys. The Reds have contingency plans for these situations; I gave a few dealers up, called my chapter boss to let them know what happened, and officially cut all ties. I will never deny having _been_ a Red, but it's not like I can just go back. We have software that rips all contact and mention from our omni-tools, so I'm basically a free woman until I hitch up my wagon again." Morinth may not have understood the expression itself, but she got the jist. She watched Shepard for a long moment, leaning in and resting her arm along the back of the booth. Every part of her carefully measured but fluid body language screamed, 'You would be crazy not to try, even if you had the choice not to.' Shepard was more than fine with it. She let the asari ravage her with those gemstone eyes, dared her to find any ounce of falsehood in her story, asking her to trust. Shepard made it a personal policy not to trust anyone, but found that people were a lot easier to manage if they thought they could trust you.

Eventually, after a split second of weakness on Shepard's part when her gaze drifted down to Morinth's lips, the asari seemed satisfied with whatever she'd seen and she smiled. It was smug, satisfied, and surprisingly chilly, but it was a smile. She picked up Shepard's drink and handed it to her, encouraging the human to partake. "Why don't you finish telling me Persephone's tale, and then we'll see if I can't help you."

She could do that.

Later, when the story was over and Morinth was thoroughly entertained, the asari held her drink up to the light, admiring its blood red color. It was her second. Shepard had just finished asking for her third. "So that's why you ordered us this drink in particular? Hades trapped Persephone with pomegranate seeds…" Morinth paused. "Are you trying to trap me with pomegranate wine?"

Shepard chuckled, tongue appropriately loosened from the tart alcohol. "It's funny that you think _I'm_ Hades in this situation. As if I could ever make you do or go anywhere you didn't want to."

"What makes you say that?" Morinth played along, but her expression made it clear that she completely agreed.

"I've been on the Citadel a week! You're the second asari I've ever met. I am completely in over my head here; some might even say out of my league."

"Out of whose league?" Morinth breathed, breath fanning across Shepard's face. She was close, very close. Shepard could have reached up and touched her crest, if she wanted to be ravaged in a public setting. After learning from poor Liara what a touch like _that_ might inspire in an asari with very clear intentions, Shepard was going to be very sure to steer clear.

But she _did_ turn her head ever so slightly, and their lips weren't really all that far apart, and she didn't really mind teasing back just a bit. "Yours," Shepard husked.

Morinth was impressed. And intrigued. She had avoided humans for a long time, after a fairly lengthy binge she came very close to being caught and had promised herself that she'd stay away. But they were hard to resist; so sensitive in both the physical and emotional departments and so uniquely individualistic. While finding a turian partner usually allotted her a very narrow playing field of war heroes, the only people really allowed to _have_ personalities in turian culture, she could handpick any human out of a crowd and find something to pique her interest. They were filled with stories and quirks and unique humors… and the human race had faced such grand divisions and culture shifts throughout their short history that talking to just one human would tell you very little about human culture as a whole. After all, Morinth had bedded a human historian before and never even heard of the Greeks.

Shepard was oddly sure of herself, even as she blushed and avoided prolonged eye contact. Morinth often found that most humans fell into one of two categories. The first, and most common, were people totally overwhelmed by her beauty and desperate to earn her attention and approval. They tripped themselves up, backtracked statements that she did not react to favorably, and hung on every word she said. The second category spent more time trying to impress her, still desperate for her favor but they tried to parade their own strengths and accomplishments to make themselves seem more desirable.

Shepard had the unique advantage of actually _being_ desirable.

Humans were wonderfully diverse when it came to looks, but Morinth had a type. Young, bright-eyed, and about as far from familiar as she could find. Dark hair, dark eyes… clear skin with no freckles or blemishes. Shepard fit the mold pretty perfectly, though she did have a few near-transparent freckles dotted along the bridge of her nose. She was naturally charming, a conversationalist with an actual interest in what as being discussed. She didn't talk because she assumed that that would help her get lucky, she talked because she wanted to talk. And her interest in Morinth was clear, but that interest only bubbled to the surface in very reserved moments. A quick glance, the quirk of a smile…

It was a rare occasion that Morinth was presented with a challenge. Normally, she didn't have time to play games. Her hunts had to be quick, precise, in-and-out jobs that allowed her plenty of time to move on before her trail was detected. But things were different these days. She'd made good friends in dangerous places, and the Citadel was not quite so well-secured as C-Sec might have you believe. People could get lost here, especially in Zakera Ward where the high and mighty council races were more than happy to let the lesser embassy races run amuck.

Humans in particular, arriving in droves and usually through less than legal means, were rarely missed.

So there was no reason she couldn't _play_ with her food for a while, especially when the meal was so palatable. It had been quite some time since she'd been able to savor a meal.

Now there was the matter of securing Shepard's company…

"I think it's time I held up my end of the bargain," Morinth purred, reaching out just as Shepard was pulling away and taking hold of the young human's chin. She enjoyed the smoothness of the skin within her grasp, the fine hairs tickling the pads of her finger.

It had been an _awfully_ long time…

 **Skycar | Citadel | September 16th 2174**

Liara was wringing her hands. She couldn't help it. A million different scenarios were running through her head, very few of them ending as well as whatever Garrus had envisioned. The blasted turian had been _humming_ to himself for the past twenty minutes, fiddling with his visor and occasionally muttering about specs and brainstorming ways to cut refocus time. Liara had almost wished she understood what he was saying, because sitting in that cab waiting for Shepard to come out alright was driving her mad.

She'd been worrying herself silly when Garrus had called her, letting her know that Shepard had pretty much fallen in Eclipse's lap in some sort of fated meeting, and then her worrying had turned to panic. He'd swung by the apartment to pick her up and pull her into a skycar. He was finally off duty for the night, and figured that to ease Liara's worry they could wait for Shepard to leave the club and pick her up when she got out. If she didn't end up leaving, they'd have a C-Sec officer right there to go in and break up the party. It had been a good plan, but now there was the matter of waiting for Shepard to actually _leave._ Garrus had only proven to be a reassuring conversation partner for ten minutes, and now Liara was right on back to picturing a hundred different horrifying scenarios.

"Why _would_ asari be so interested in this club?" she asked again, hoping that maybe Garrus would have come up with a different answer in the last five minutes since she'd asked.

"Beats me. My best guess is that Eclipse is banking on C-Sec being lax in the Zakera Wards because they've got the highest human population," Garrus said, surprisingly patient for such a serious sort of guy. "No offense to Shepard, but humans can be a pain in the ass. We usually tend to just let them fight each other for whatever scraps of food and weaponry trickles out of the more important wards."

Liara didn't know if she wholeheartedly approved of that policy. She'd met very few humans. But she did have to admit that their moods ranged on a very wide spectrum; some were absolutely pleasant and some were absolutely revolting. Grim was the example that immediately jumped to mind.

But the thought of Shepard surrounded by predatory, aggressive asari made her scalp itch, and tiny sparks of jealousy flinted within her.

The asari had seen so many new races join the galactic community that one more never seemed like a big deal, but there was always of course a… _wave_ of interest that gained immediate traction when a new species was introduced. From both scientific and cultural perspectives humans were dangerously fascinating; they were as short-lived as the turians but had enough cultural depth and diversity to rival the asari. Studies of their art, architecture and music had inspired several renaissances in salarian communities, the most short-lived species in the galaxy and therefore the most prone to rapid evolution. Humans were considered… fashionable in certain asari circles. Arm candy. They were entertaining and innocent and new, and experiencing their many different cultures was like diving headfirst into what you thought was a clear pond, only to find a vast coral reef just below the surface. It was entertaining even if you were the sort of traditionalist that thought all other cultures were beneath the asari's recognition.

Liara knew that if there were as many hot-headed asari in that club as Shepard as guessed, at least three of them would try to make a move on Shepard. And if they were all mercenaries, then that number would likely be higher and the situation more dangerous for Shepard when she rebuffed them.

(Liara didn't really care to correct herself when she realized she'd thought _when_ and not _if._ She didn't want to think about _ff._ )

Asari were insanely territorial and measured themselves in terms of their desirability. Originally, that meant having the most maidens at your beck and call. Matriarchs and matrons nearing their final life cycle were valued by the size of their following; Liara's own mother was regarded very highly on Thessia and was frequently looked to for advice or opinions on intergalactic relations and spirituality, with her main area of expertise being religion. Spiritual leaders were usually the most highly valued and possessed the greatest number of followers. Businesswomen and traders usually followed third behind scientists, with gangs and mercenary groups squabbling over the rest.

As more and more species arrived to become a part of the galaxy, being "desirable" changed from being valued for your intellect and ideas to being wanted for what your body could offer. Nowadays, spiritualists and religious leaders (who were normally very much traditional and reserved) still reigned supreme on the home world but businesswomen had to charm their buyers, mercenary leaders had to bed their way to power. Maidens were _expected_ to dance in foul, drug-dusted hole in the wall clubs to prove that they were wanted.

Liara had never been fond of expectations.

Traditionalist political groups had sprung up over the years, calling for a return to more "respectable" business practices and rites of passage, but sadly it was just _too_ easy to follow the path of seductress instead. Races that required physical contact for reproduction were especially easy to pull under one's thrall, because survival instincts demanded contact even when the mind might not agree.

It was thought to be so easy to simply charm somebody into giving you what you wanted that when a typical asari is rejected, where a human might feel disappointment an asari would experience panic. Many asari considered rejection to be the ultimate insult, a direct threat to their self-image. Most asari responded to rejection either by trying harder, usually forcing the contact… or eliminating the offending party. As extreme as that might sound, you would be surprised by how rare it was for an asari to be turned down. They were normally very good at identifying willing parties…

If Shepard were to be approached and then propositioned, rejecting the offer could lead to decidedly ugly circumstances. But Liara didn't want to share that with Garrus; it was embarrassing to admit that your species handled rejection about as well as a varren handled hunger. He'd already teased her about her inability to focus on anything _but_ Shepard when she was, well… walking away…

She could just picture his amused concern for Shepard's well-being in the distant future. Please. Even _if_ Shepard were to reject her in such a manner there was, one, the fact that Liara considered herself to be _above_ such base behavior and two…

It wasn't like Liara had plans to make her feelings known. At least… well. Not at the moment. Or ever. Possibly.

* * *

 _I had to pull this chapter along kicking and screaming so I apologize for the wait. Next time will be more exciting._

 _-Cel_


	8. Chapter 8

**Pandora's Box | Citadel | September 17th 2174**

Morinth's hand was dangerously close to Shepard's lady bits, and they seemed to be all too happy with the development. Shepard's _brain_ on the other hand was very much in panic mode because she had become viciously outnumbered quite suddenly. Three asari from across the room had appeared at their table like three sirens clawing their way up the side of Odysseus' ship, all wicked smiles and glowing scales. Unfortunately for Shepard, she'd had no shipmates ready and waiting to tie her to the mast before the singing started.

"Shepard, right? My name is Vera, it's a pleasure. Morinth has told us all about you." The center asari with dark blue eyes and mottled periwinkle scales around her cheekbones extended a hand for Shepard to shake. Shepard hesitated before extending her own, and for good reason. The grip she met was tighter than anything a human with even a decent grasp of social cues would have dared give. The experience felt more like willingly putting your hand in a vice grip only because it graced you with fluttering lashes and maybe also because it might have done something worse than just squeeze your bones if you were rude.

Asari were scary.

"The pleasure's mine," Shepard replied, somewhat nervously. The new arrivals all giggled like clucking hens, or like the coquettish ladies-in-waiting from a novel set in Victorian England… all the while Morinth's grip on Shepard's thigh was an ever-present distraction. Shepard was _definitely_ in over her head. She couldn't talk to Garrus under such close scrutiny, and with every moment that passed she found herself wishing for the predictable bumbling of Recruit Jenkins and the honest lethargy of Barbra the Exhausted Bartender from downstairs.

"You're new to the Citadel, right?" Another asari asked, this one with aggressive white lines framing her jaw and brow ridge. When Shepard nodded all three pairs of the newcomers' eyes seemed to gleam. "Morinth mentioned tattoos, could we see them? I _adore_ human body modification, it's so bold and permanent." Shepard absolutely did not like the tone of voice that accompanied those words. This asari made it sound like humans were cute for trying to make the most out of their incredibly short (by asari standards) lifespans, like getting a meaningful tattoo was just some passing attempt to emulate immortality. Feeling like a bug in a glass case was a new experience for Shepard, and she decided that she did not like it. The asari's eyes flashed wickedly and then she was reaching to pull at Shepard's sleeve. Poor Shepard, hand still caught in the overly-friendly greeting that had long since passed into the sixth circle of awkward, could only cry out in protest and try to wriggle away. Vera simply smirked and maintained her grip, going so far as to tighten it further. Shepard could feel her bones grind.

"Hmmm," the second asari regarded the tattooed skull on Shepard's forearm with analytic curiosity. After very little inspection however she dropped Shepard's arm, with no disregard for the confusion on Shepard's face, and activated her omni-tool. "You sure she said the 10th Street Reds, Morinth? The skull checks out but those birds aren't part of the scans we have on file."

"Oh, really..."

Shepard's blood ran cold at the tickle of nails scratching at the baby hairs on the back of her neck. Morinth's hand had moved, now a threat lying in wait as opposed to a clear sign of attraction. Were they trying to check her story? See if she was legit? Well, that was fine. She hadn't told Morinth anything but the truth, and even the omitted parts weren't things these asari could find out in an instant. Still, some primal part of her knew that avoiding Morinth's displeasure was to be top priority at all times, so she cleared her throat before the nails on her skin decided to flex and draw blood. "If you're talking about the regulation ink, no, the birds aren't a part of it."

Four pairs of blue eyes swiveled her way. Three were cold, the false flirtation and warmth gone. Morinth's eyes withheld judgement, unwilling to believe that her newest toy had tried to lie to her. She'd have to kill her a lot sooner than she'd originally intended, if that was the case… and where was the fun in that?

"...The birds are for biotics."

What followed immediately after Shepard's declaration was a myriad of reactions ranging from intrigued to incensed. Vera immediately started laughing, cackling really, the thought of this scrawny human possessing biotic power simply too much for her to handle. The second asari that had pulled back Shepard's sleeve shared a suspicious look with the third asari that had remained silent throughout the encounter, and their eyes communicated what their voices would not have been able to carry over the uproarious sound of their compatriot's guffaws. Morinth's reaction was perhaps the most curious of all, because she actually recoiled from her place at Shepard's side. She pulled away like Shepard's skin was acidic, as though her clothes were forged from broiling embers. Her eyes were wide, thoughts racing.

A biotic? Impossible. Human biotics were kept under lock and key by the Alliance; they were strictly military-only personnel. If Shepard was a biotic, then surely she could not be who she claimed to be? Some lowly cartel grunt, rich enough to afford a biotic implant? The thought was ludicrous. And if she _was_ some kind of under-cover agent the Alliance would come looking for her if she disappeared… which would be heat that Morinth would rather avoid. Certain persons would take notice if the Alliance was investigating Eclipse turf… on behalf of a young attractive human female that went missing in a club.

The third asari, the silent one, stood suddenly and left in the same direction Morinth had gone before. Shepard kept one eye trained on her progress and realized that both Morinth and this asari reported to the same navy blue Alpha-female. Only this time, instead of looking amused, the navy blue asari from across the room looked genuinely curious when she turned her gaze Shepard's way. Shepard, unafraid despite her general feeling of unease, met that gaze full on. If Garrus was right and she had fallen right into the lap of her next gang, then she was going to have to make this work. It wasn't like they were going to just let her walk out the same way she came in, at least she doubted very highly that things would go so far in her favor. If she'd piqued Eclipse interest, then Eclipse it would have to be. She didn't particularly like being around so many asari that were nothing at all like Liara, but hey she'd dealt with creeps before. It wasn't like the 10th Street Reds had been riddled with gentlemen or highborn ladies. And at least she knew for a fact that Eclipse was willing to take in human recruits-

A dark whisper tickled at her ear. "If you are lying about any of this I recommend you tell me now. Jona Sedaris only likes to play games if she's the one making the rules."

A bead of sweat rolled past Shepard's temple, and she had to fight to unweave the knot in her throat that the deafening hiss of Morinth's demand had brought to life. Morinth felt so close, the cool rush of breath tickling her skin, that it would have been impossible for the asari _not_ to have seen it. "I'm not lying. And who the hell is Jona Sedaris?"

Morinth grasped her chin and pulled her close, cold eyes boring into Shepard's own. That mysterious gaze sought out the lie, sifted through the slightest flecks of brown and green for falsehood, for bravado. For a bluff. Shepard knew that she would find none, but the urge to squirm away was still strong. Eventually Morinth blinked, and the spell was broken. She released Shepard and turned away, her eyes now turned towards something far off, too caught up in whatever she was thinking to truly be seeing.

"Shepard." Shepard turned away from Morinth and saw Vera, flagged by her two companions on either side, standing with her arms crossed and eyes bright with excitement. "Jona wants to meet you. Come on, she doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Shepard stood because it felt like a bad idea not to listen. Morinth let her go without protest, seemingly content to wait at their table for whatever would happen next.

 **Skycar | Citadel | September 17** **th** **2174**

At this point it was after midnight and they hadn't heard from Shepard for at least an hour. Liara was a bit of a worrisome wreck and it was starting to grate on Garrus' nerves. He hated being around civilians for this very reason, they were so fidgety and _nervous_ about everything. Obviously yes he was concerned that Shepard could be at that very moment in the hands of arguably the cruelest of the major mercenary leaders, wishing she'd never left her home planet… but he had to trust that she knew what she was doing. And it wasn't like he could just keep shouting in her ear, as Liara would have him do; if she didn't blow her own chances then his fretting certainly would.

"But Garrus, it's been an _hour_ and-"

"And I've gone a week without hearing a peep from an undercover contact, you don't see me worrying." Garrus sighed when he realized his words came out a lot harsher than he'd meant them to; Liara had retreated into her seat, eyes downcast and confidence wounded. He reached up to scratch at an itch on his lower mandible, the awkward silence filling the car practically unbearable. If Liara ever did pluck up the courage to let Shepard know there was an attraction, Spirits help the poor human. Garrus couldn't handle such fussing from his own mother, he couldn't imagine having to bear it from a significant other. "Say, Dr. T'Soni… what do you think of Shepard? I mean, _really_ think of her, aside from thinking she's cute."

Liara protested initially, embarrassed by such an implication, but Garrus merely snorted away her refusals and so Liara set to thinking. "She's…" everything she might have said seemed insufficient or incorrect. "I haven't known her for very long at all, but… something about her wants me to know her. Obviously she's fascinating from a scientific standpoint; no creature alive should be able to understand Prothean, least of all a young human from Earth. But beyond that she seems very protective of herself, perfectly polite and friendly if a tad bit gruff... but closed off."

Garrus nodded, whether in agreement or to urge her on Liara wasn't sure.

Liara had very little experience with humans, so she wasn't sure what was human nature and what was Shepard's own personality. "She is charming, easy to talk to, seems fairly confident in her ability to stay alive," at this point she trailed off with a chuckle. "Though her methods are not always typical. She was either brave enough or ignorant enough to trust a krogan battlemaster, after all."

The noise Garrus made then was less amused. Turians were never the biggest fan of the krogan, even before the Genophage. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around that one."

"But I do truly believe that she is good, underneath the layers a life on the streets with only violence for an occupation have given her."

 **Pandora's Box | Citadel | September 17th 2174**

Jona Sedaris was just as smug-looking up close as she was from across a room. The only difference was that up close you could see the spark of cruel mirth that only the criminally unhinged could sport. Oh boy. She eyed Shepard up and down, and Shepard maintained eye contact as best she could. Being sandwiched between Vera and Illia, the asari with the bold white face markings that had been critical of her tattoo that had finally offered her name, made Shepard feel small. Not because she was short, though she was shorter than both asari, but because she was outnumbered.

"So this is Morinth's latest human!" Jona said, bright white teeth as startling as the mad delight in her gaze. A shiver crawled up Shepard's spine. The implications of such a description were… unsettling, especially considering the way Barbra from downstairs had reacted upon seeing Shepard leaving with Morinth. Red flag, much? "I hear you're looking for work."

Shepard tried to smile. "And I assume you're the person I should talk to about that."

Jona grinned, viciously, and motioned for her to sit. Or perhaps she was motioning for her lackeys to _push_ Shepard into the seat, because that's what happened. "It's rare that Morinth actually introduces someone to me. The last time she did, it was a krogan merc that ended up being a big help with… ending a certain politician that was making trouble for us on Ilium. Don't take this the wrong way," the asari leaned in, steepling her fingers and eyeing Shepard with malicious glee, "…but you're a bit of a downgrade."

The insult may have stung, but having already met a krogan mercenary Shepard couldn't argue. Not sure if she was supposed to answer, or defend herself, Shepard defaulted to charm. "Maybe. But I bet I have better breath." Relieved when she managed to earn a chuckle, Shepard attempted another smile and made her case. "I'm guessing you already know I'm an ex-Red, and _I_ already know that Eclipse has taken in Reds before-"

"For fodder, sure." Jona quipped, causing a wave of dark giggles to echo around the surrounding tables.

That… was the wrong thing to say to Shepard. Ex-Red or not, she'd known plenty of good men and women that had left for space hoping for more, some even hoping they might be able to leave gang life behind if they were able to squirrel away enough coin. In fact, _most_ of the only decent people she'd met in the Reds had left for space as soon as they were able. To hear them reduced to little more than target practice struck a very human nerve. Her eyes narrowed, shoulders squaring. She crossed her arms and leaned back into the booth, and Jona caught the shift in mood. The asari watched her with a more measured look, wondering if maybe there was more to this human than shiny hair and a toned frame. She had to have caught Morinth's interest _somehow_ , after all.

"Well if that's all we are to you I'm happy to look elsewhere," Shepard said, "I hear there's enough trouble in the Zakera Wards for any solo bodyguard to make a decent enough living." Or at least she hoped there was, or that would have been the first bluff she'd made all day.

"You? A bodyguard?" Jona cackled, " _Please,_ I've eaten things bigger than you!"

"I've done it before." Shepard replied, though she couldn't help but wonder if the meal Jona was referencing was literal or sexual in nature. Asari occasionally mated with krogan, right? That was a thing? "Leg-breaking is more my strength though, and I'm sure those jobs are around if you know where to look. I'll figure it out." Shepard rose to leave, because Jona was starting to make her skin crawl, but Vera's hand clamped down on her shoulder hard enough to bruise.

"Jona hasn't given you permission to leave yet," the asari snarled, authoritative and threatening.

But Shepard was used to power plays and immediately raised her own hackles, snarling back " _Jona_ hasn't given me any reason to want to stay."

A hush fell over the asari, and across the bar Morinth sipped her cocktail, watching everything with a carefully hidden critical eye. If Shepard raised Jona's ire, then to Morinth's damning frustration there would be nothing she could do that wouldn't compromise her own arrangement with the Eclipse leader. And as much as she hated to admit it, Morinth needed Eclipse's resources if she was going to stay under the radar. If Shepard got herself killed, then Morinth's appetite would go unsatisfied, and that meant hell for the next morsel she decided on.

Shepard kept her eyes on Vera but her ears on Jona. The Eclipse leader had accepted a shot of bright green liquid from a frightened human server, and she tipped it back with a flourish and smacked her lips together once the last drop was gone. "Illia tells me you claim to be a biotic."

"That's right."

"Prove it," Jona dared with a smile, her eyes darting to relay some sort of message to Vera before a fist connected with Shepard's temple and she went flying across the room. She hit the floor with a crack and slid, and an innocent server narrowly avoided being taken down with her. Lights danced behind Shepard's eyelids, echoes in her ears muddling the excited sounds of a bloodthirsty crowd forming a circle around the fallen human and her assigned opponent. Shaking it off, Shepard rolled onto her feet but stayed crouched close to the floor, waiting for her vision to refocus.

 _Geez, asari hit hard._ She touched her temple to check for blood, and was relieved when her hand came away clean. She narrowed her eyes at Vera, watching the domineering asari crack her knuckles as biotic tendrils of light snaked about her shoulders. "Hitting a lady when she's not looking? Classy," Shepard spat.

The suggestion that she'd started the fight off dirty seemed to insult the asari, and she stalked forward with a growl. The ring of Eclipse peons that had formed around them egged their compatriot on, calling for Vera to show the lowly human which species was in charge. Shepard rose slightly but kept her knees bent and her feet light, knowing that speed was going to have to be her strategy. A few more direct hits like that would make this fight a lot more vicious than it needed to be; Shepard had a bit of a temper when she got physical and she wasn't afraid to fight dirty, especially if she let an opponent get the best of her early on. And Vera certainly looked like she thought this was going to be an easy win. Shepard shut that down real quick when she ducked under a right hook and stepped in to deliver a quick but brutal jab to Vera's gut. A wheeze escaped her as Shepard jumped back with a smirk, and Vera clutched at her stomach, wincing.

Cries of outrage echoed around them, jeers at Vera's expense and angry shouts directed at Shepard. Shepard blew her bangs out of her face. She hated fighting with an audience.

"You little-" Vera charged forward with the power and grace of a bull, and Shepard was the red flag that danced just out of her reach. Olé! She kept low and aloof, overly cautious with her own punches and kicks, unwilling to let herself get too close. At one point she had to bend over backwards to avoid a high, sweeping kick, and her cheeks grew hot when she heard a sultry voice call out, "Ooh, she's _flexible…"_

When she flipped over and stood again, she was blushing. And Morinth saw it. So did every asari.

"Is this a fight, or a dance?" Vera demanded, practically growling. She'd wanted to prove a point, take this scrawny creature out in maybe three hits tops, but all she'd done was chase after her and miss. And the brat _still_ hadn't proven she was a biotic. That thought gave Vera an idea. "Try and dodge this!" Blue biotic energy lanced across the room, and the power of Vera's shockwave was enough to send Shepard crashing into and actually over the bar top, knocking down the bottom shelf of bottles with a glass-shattering rattle. The ring of asari was on Vera's side once more, cheering and giggling as Shepard pulled herself up with a groan. Broken glass had cut across Shepard's cheek and temple, the dark blood dripping down her face and onto her jacket, her favorite jacket… which was now soaked. And reeked of cheap spirits.

Shepard growled, anger vibrating through her veins. That had been _exceedingly_ uncalled for. A biotic shockwave of that caliber, in this small a space? Complete and utter overkill. Unnecessary. And now her favorite jacket would need to be cleaned.

Shepard glanced to her left to make sure the bartender that had been standing closest to her was unharmed. The asari server actually looked sorry for her, apologetic for her species. With a grunt, Shepard hopped back over the bar top and removed her jacket. A couple asari whistled when they realized she was wearing only a very slight tank top underneath and Morinth's libido stirred, her blood pumping in anticipation. Shepard had _nice_ shoulders, an armband tattooed on her right bicep that highlighted wiry muscle. Human collarbones were deliciously visible, tantalizing.

"This is my favorite jacket," Shepard announced, holding it up for Vera to see. She turned and brushed aside some broken glass on the bar top to clear a place, then folded the jacket up and placed it there lovingly. When she turned back around, her eyes were hard and her grin was vicious. "After I kick your ass, _you're_ taking care of the dry cleaning."

Before Vera had a chance to retort, Shepard's form lit up with biotic energy and a biotic charge sent her flying across the room. She crashed into Vera as cries of shock went up around them, and both Jona Sedaris and Morinth shot straight up in their seats. So, Shepard _was_ a biotic! In the same moment Jona thought _"This is fantastic!"_ Morinth couldn't help but think, _"This is a problem."_

The pair of combatants ended up on the floor, rolling around and wrestling for dominance, biotic tendrils whipping around them and filling their air with power and static. Vera ended up on top at one point, straddling Shepard's hips and rearing back to deliver a sucker punch to Shepard's defenseless nose, but to every asari's surprise Shepard's hand shot out and across the room a tall bottle of wine became encased in a biotic glow. With a yank, the bottle came flying across the room and collided with the back of Vera's head. Crying out and reeling from the surprise attack, Vera released her hold and Shepard gained the upper hand. Instead of claiming the asari's place on top however, she rolled them over and locked her forearm across Vera's throat, holding the asari down and squeezing. A chokehold, as the humans called it.

"Say uncle!" Shepard hissed, tightening her grip when Vera tried to summon her biotics once more. "Say it!"

"What the hell does _uncle_ mean?" Vera wheezed, clawing at Shepard's forearm, desperate to break free.

"Oh, uh- I mean," Shepard paused, realizing that the saying must not have been translating. "Surrender?"

"Never!" Vera shot back, outraged by the suggestion. So the two continued to struggle, Shepard wondering why it was taking so long for the asari to tire herself out, and Vera wondering how she could have let a human get the best of her.

Neither noticed Jona Sedaris rising from her seat with a grin. The ring of asari encasing the two fighters parted to let their boss through, and that caused Morinth to rise when her view suddenly became blocked. Jona walked right past the pair of grunting fighters, going straight to the bar where Shepard had lain her jacket down. She picked it up and draped it over her arm, dropping down her credit chit and pushing it towards the server. "Vera," she finally called out, "…that's enough." Shepard felt Vera freeze, strength leaving her, and Shepard looked up. Jona was watching her with a grin. "Shepard, come with me. Let's go get your jacket cleaned."

Shepard blinked, her right eye stinging with the combination of alcohol and blood dripping down the side of her face. A gentle touch to her shoulder made her turn. Morinth was there, watching her with guarded eyes, and held out a hand for Shepard to take. After a moment's hesitation she did, and Morinth pulled her up. Vera glared at the small human, though Shepard did not see it, but Morinth did. The glare she gave in returned was ice cold and threatening. Vera looked away, the fire of anger quenched by fear in one terrifying instant like hot iron in arctic waters.

 **Spartan District, Zakera Wards | Citadel | September 17th 2174**

When Shepard finally called them, even Garrus had to admit he was relieved. She sounded beat up and exhausted, and told them that she was back in the small apartment in the Spartan district. When asked why she was there, halfway across the ward, all she'd said was, "I'll explain when you get here."

And when they'd finally made it to the apartment, Liara was horrified to see the various cuts and bruises littering Shepard's right side and even her face. A particularly long cut on her cheek looked red and painful, and when Liara moved to fret Shepard shooed her away. "Don't worry," she'd said. "I'm sure the vodka sterilized it."

" _What?_ " Liara cried, horrified.

"How drunk did you get that you smashed a vodka bottle over your own head?" Garrus asked, giving her a cursory First Aid scan to take stock of her injuries. There wasn't anything too serious, though he did note that her biotic implant was heated, which told him that she'd definitely been using it.

"Hah," Shepard's voice dripped with false amusement. "I'm not the one that smashed it, my new 'squad leader' did." The use of air quotes made Garrus pause.

"I'm assuming that means you managed to get in?" he asked.

Shepard nodded, and when he was done with the scan she slumped down on the nearest couch. "Trial run. In three days they're running protection for some shady mole-person. I think she said he deals in almost-legal drugs and there's a shipment being moved."

It took Liara and Garrus both a minute to understand that 'mole-person' meant volus, and when Liara looked up what a mole was she wasn't sure she could see any similarity. It must have been a human thing. Garrus immediately set to work finding out everything he could about this 'job' that was set to take place: ship names, dock numbers, guard rotations. He wouldn't interfere, because Shepard's trial run needed to go well if she was expected to really get in with Eclipse, but he wanted to make sure he wasn't letting any criminal too slimy get away with anything big. And he wasn't; the shipment that was being moved was going to Illium, where practically everything was legal. Honestly, from what he could see, interfering would cause more trouble than it would save. These specific biotic-enhancement drugs were only harmful to the biotics that used them, and even then only in massive quantities. Plus, like Shepard had said, they were mostly-legal.

"So, what exactly happened?" Garrus asked. "We didn't hear from you for a couple hours. Why don't you fill us in?" He glanced over to Liara, who was busying herself in the bathroom looking for First Aid supplies so she could patch up Shepard. "I'm sure Liara would feel a lot better knowing those cuts just _look_ a lot worse than they actually are."

"Well, they know I'm a biotic. It's the only reason they didn't kill me, I think. They _did_ almost ruined my jacket, though. But surprisingly, Jona picked up the bill herself and had one of her cronies bring me here. I told them that this was my place. I didn't think it would suit Liara's cover story to have her be living with little old me." Shepard gingerly prodded the cut on her cheek, hissing when she broke the fragile, healing skin and the wound began to trickle blood once more. Liara chose the moment to come out of the bathroom armed with a small tube of medigel, antiseptic, and a washcloth dampened with warm water. When she saw Shepard fussing with her wounds she clucked her tongue disapprovingly and sat down at Shepard's side.

"Well, I suppose they were going to find out eventually," Liara mused, immediately setting to work cleaning away the blood, dried and fresh both. "I only hope you gave as good as you got." Shepard fought back a grin. Protective Liara was feistier than regular Liara.

"Yeah, we scrapped. Jona didn't believe that I was a biotic, none of the asari did. So I had to fight one of them, an asari with a temper named Vera. She's heading the squad I'm supposed to work with."

"How did you even wind up in the VIP section?" Liara asked, gently patting down a square patch of gauze on Shepard's cheek. She busied herself with taking care of Shepard, trying not to let herself get indignant. She much would have preferred it if Shepard had stayed downstairs at Pandora's Box and found work with other humans. Surely there were legally-operating human mercenary groups? Liara wasn't an overly jealous individual, not really, but her species had a penchant for it and it was infuriating her that even she was not immune. There was really only one answer to Liara's question: another asari had to have invited Shepard upstairs, with less-than-platonic intentions. She _knew_ that, so did she really want to hear it from Shepard's own lips?

"An asari started flirting with me. Oh! Liara, I can ask you this, you would know. Garrus was no help." Shepard turned to face Liara, who still had her hand near Shepard's face. The sudden movement pushed the full, soft apple of the human's cheek into the palm of Liara's hand and a shiver went down the young asari's spine. "Do asari have pecking orders? Every asari in there seemed pretty much ready to ask 'how high?' if Jona said 'jump.' Is that normal?"

Liara pushed away the wonder that came with knowing how _soft_ human cheeks were, and nodded. "Yes, maidens usually follow the orders of matrons and matriarchs. It's a part of our culture."

Shepard tilted her head. "But you don't?"

Embarrassed, Liara ducked her head and dropped her hand. "I prefer working alone. I am not your… typical asari."

Shepard hummed to herself. "I think I'd much rather hang around you than any 'typical' asari then."

Shepard stood up then to change into the softer clothes that Garrus had brought along, and she didn't see the beaming smile that had Liara turned her face away to hide. Garrus saw it though. And when he grinned teasingly she huffed and tried to ignore his laughter.

* * *

 _Being an adult is no fun. But I'm not dead!_

 _-Cel_


	9. Chapter 9

**Dock B43, Zakera Wards | Citadel | September 20** **th** **2174**

Shepard stretched her arms over her head, waiting for the satisfying _pop_ between her shoulder blades. A lightly-used but heavily-modded Eviscerator shotgun was strapped to her back and Grim's old Tempest model was clipped to her hip. She'd given her Predator back to Garrus, firstly because it was too risky to keep considering it had come from a C-Sec armorer (she wasn't _trying_ to advertise that she as a rat after all) and secondly because Shepard's strengths did not lie anywhere near precision shooting. Suppressing fire and shrapnel: _those_ were her firing strengths. Wrex had been right about the Eviscerator being perfect for her; she'd tested it out on a makeshift shooting range she'd built on the roof of the complex her 'apartment' in the Spartan District was in. It had a larger clip than other, more powerful models and was lighter to carry. Heavier models with larger shells were meant more for heavyweight fighters and despite her biotic prowess, Shepard was by no means a meathead.

She weighed less than one-fifty soaking wet.

Their trio, that being Garrus, Liara, and herself, had spent the last few days doing their own thing for the most part. Liara had been hard at work convincing Saren to grant Shepard the clearances necessary for her to enter the Spectre offices, and Garrus had been busy finding out as much as he could about the few Eclipse mercs Shepard had been able to name. He wanted to keep Shepard out of trouble, keep her away from the bigger fish in case Saren decided to put a tighter leash on her. Shepard had spent most of the last 72 hours sleeping.

She hadn't heard anything from Morinth since her scuffle with Vera. After she'd helped her up off the ground the mysterious asari had seemed to melt into the crowd and Shepard had been too busy handling Jona's brand of crazy to pay much attention to anything else. Jona took up a _lot_ of attention, and not for complimentary reasons. The alpha asari had spent the entire ride to the dry cleaner (who happened to be a very nervous-looking salarian and _whoa_ were salarians freaky-looking up close) asking about Shepard's implant. Jona had been disappointed to learn that Shepard was not in fact equipped with the infamous L2 implant, because she seemed to find the side effects awfully _entertaining._

But back to Morinth: in the instant that Shepard had locked eyes with the femme fatale as she'd been pulled up from the floor, Shepard had noticed that Morinth seemed closed off... or at least a hell of a lot less flirtatious than she had been at the start of the night. Maybe being a human biotic was a turn-off? Hell if she knew.

Now she was on her way to her first Eclipse job, her trial run. She was caught between hoping she'd see some familiar faces and dreading the possibility of such. Knowing now that asari thought so little of their human recruits was disheartening to say the least, irritating to be more honest. She'd been sent an address in the early hours of the morning and Liara had fussed over her for no less than ten minutes before Garrus walked her through the process of calling a skycar. They didn't have skycars back on Earth, at least not the self-driving ones. In Old Manhattan, the cabs were still driven by people. Maybe it was for the sake of nostalgia, or because humans had never quite perfected their self-driving AIs. Too many variables.

The Zakera Ward docks were cool, even Shepard with all her love for home had to admit it. Windows as long as horizons showcased the wide expanse of space, stars twinkling in the inky blackness of the unknown. People from all races frittered about, making last-minute purchases or getting into arguments with the employees manning check-in counters. The volus merchant Eclipse had been hired to protect was moving from one ship and then immediately to another, which wouldn't have been a problem for him if his docking lane hadn't been switched up last-minute. Instead of making a quick, stubby gallop to another gangplank fifty feet away as he'd intended he'd need to be escorted to another floor entirely. Not only was that floor a dozen levels up, it was also impossible to get there without going through territory controlled by a rival seller. A rival seller with well-paid krogan mercenaries at his beck and call. When Vera had first explained the job to her Shepard had asked why the elevators couldn't just go straight to that floor. When Vera had asked her if she was serious, in a tone that told Shepard an affirmative response would get her into trouble, Shepard let it go. A critique of the Citadel's elevator system wasn't worth getting into an argument with her newly-appointed squad leader.

Her omnitool was getting an awful lot of use as of late. Right after her call with Vera Garrus had buzzed her, reminding her to please avoid reopening her wounds. The one on her cheek was being difficult, he reminded her. Liara had only just gotten it to stay closed.

Shepard had rolled her eyes affectionately, reassuring _Liara_ that she would be careful. Garrus had laughed and before the connection died she caught Liara's offended huff.

Shepard had meant what she'd said about preferring Liara to other asari. Liara was sweet, didn't presume anything. If there was one thing that turned Shepard off it was somebody acting like there was _no way_ you couldn't want them. The one exception to that rule so far had been Morinth… because there was an almost unnatural pull the asari commanded with every movement. But that was another can of worms entirely; Shepard still wasn't quite sure what to make of Morinth and the cursory research she'd done on asari power dynamics had convinced her _not_ to get too into detail regarding their interactions when Liara was within earshot. She hadn't given Garrus a name or really explained that she'd actually met Morinth before when she told him about her initiation process, she'd left it vague and let him think a random member of Eclipse had let her up to Pandora's VIP area on a whim. Both Garrus and Liara seemed to accept it without question. Liara in fact had seemed to _expect_ it, eyes narrowing at the mention of another asari getting into Shepard's personal space.

The thought of Liara's feisty face made Shepard grin. Liara was really cute, really caring too. Shepard was glad that Liara had been the first asari she'd gotten to meet. She wasn't sure she would have been as friendly towards Liara if her first experience with asari had been more along the lines of the Eclipse mercs. She still wasn't entirely comfortable around aliens, if she was being honest with herself, but letting Liara touch her wasn't nearly as hard as it had been when they'd first met. Liara's skin actually felt nice: cool to the touch and soft with subtle texture. It almost made Shepard hyper-aware of the hair follicles dotting her own skin. You didn't realize how much hair you were actually covered in until you met someone that had less… or in Liara's case, none.

The crests still made her do a double-take though.

"There she is!" Vera's boisterous voice called out over the din of mass transit. Speaking of crests…

Shepard caught sight of the yellow Eclipse armor and zeroed in on the gaggle of asari huddled near a pile of shipping containers. Shepard waved to let the squad leader know she'd heard and hurried over. She wasn't sure if she was early or not, Vera hadn't exactly been specific over the COMM line.

"Am I late?" Shepard asked, taking a quick measure of the crew she'd be running with. Aside from Vera there were four asari Shepard barely recognized from Pandora's Box. Shepard also received nods from a pair of salarians sporting the yellow fiberglass armor, black suns standing out sharply against the otherwise bright colors. She was the only human present.

"Nope, right on time." Vera said, leaning back against a shipping container with her arms crossed. "He should be docking in 15, until then I have some questions to ask and introductions to make." She pushed off from the container and approached, ignoring Shepard's suspicious expression. "Gotta admit that I'm impressed before anything, though."

"What?" Shepard asked, but then Vera was snatching her shotgun from her back, firing it up to ready mode so she could admire it. Wrex had equipped it with a detachable melee knife at Shepard's request, and the knife was the only brand-new part of it. The barrel extension was as secondhand as the gun itself. Vera gave it a cursory glance before tightening the extension and double-checking the safety before handing it back to Shepard.

"The Eviscerator is a nice model. This one's old, but well-looked after. And the knife is good one. You know your guns." Vera circled Shepard like a hawk, eyes critical. She was a lot more serious in Command Mode than she was in Beat Up Shepard Mode. Shepard could see why Vera was a squad leader. "You're almost naked in terms of armor, though. Is your barrier that good?"

"Uh…" No, it wasn't. But before Shepard had time to bullshit a response Vera had popped her one right in the gut, _hard._ It was a picture-perfect replica of the first hit Shepard had landed on Vera during their barfight. Shepard doubled over in pain, gasping for breath, knowing full well that that was definitely going to bruise.

"Well that answers that question," Vera quipped sarcastically. The other Eclipse mercs cackled. "Vizeet, get her set up on our shield system. The last thing I need is Morinth's newest toy getting shot on her first day out with us."

Why did everyone she meet seem to be terrified of upsetting Morinth? Was she some kind of pseudo-alpha? There had to be something, because even Jona Sedaris had seemed wary of raising Morinth's ire and she was rumored to be one of the _craziest_ merc leaders in the galaxy. She'd founded Eclipse for crying out loud, arguably the most efficient and well-respected mercenary organization in the Milky Way Galaxy. To be a bloodthirsty merc band with good PR required a specific brand of mad genius that Shepard knew better than to mess with. Garrus had given her a quick lesson in mercenary politics to help her not piss anyone off, and she'd been impressed by Eclipse's reach. Back on Earth you'd have been hard-pressed to find a mercenary getting away with outright assassination for _personal_ benefit, but Eclipse seemed to have a knack for it. Legend had it that Jona had killed a turian with her _mind_ after he'd rejected her invitation for drinks.

The mossy green salarian that cautiously approached her had wide, inquisitive amber eyes. He regarded her silently, eyeing her up for the best place to mount the shield processor. "May I?" he asked, holding the triangular panel up in one hand and a battery pack in the other. Shepard nodded, trying not to flinch when he stepped into her personal space. Salarians were tall. Not as tall as turians, but tall enough that Vizeet had to bend down to work properly. He secured the processor just above her heart. A common practice, he explained. The processor itself had a lead base that would stop a fatal chest wound should the shield itself fail, and the battery pack he secured to a separate clip on her belt would draw the power away from the processor to prevent electrocution through short-circuiting. He quipped that it was such an unfortunate design flaw that the human heart was so centrally located, and Shepard wasn't sure if she should be offended or laughing along with him.

When he stepped away he smiled. "You smell nice, for a human. Not as rude as the usual peons Jona throws at us. My brother Nigat and I will pray that you don't die!"

He was gone before Shepard could thank him… or shove him. Vera tried another punch and this time she was satisfied with the results: Shepard had barely felt a thing and Vizeet had registered the minimal drain successfully on his omnitool, meaning that Shepard was successfully keyed into their shared system.

"Alright idiots, fall in." Vera called as she shook off the pain from the failed punch, and Shepard obeyed. Better not to make waves on the first day. She ended up next to an asari she didn't recognize. Judging by the way those blue eyes looked her up and down, clearly wondering what the human was doing there, she hadn't heard about Shepard's recruitment. Had Vera not told her squad anything about her? Well, Shepard counted that as a blessing. She wasn't sure she liked being thought of just as 'Morinth's latest toy,' or whatever version of it the others seemed fit to call her.

She would have her chance to prove that she was a lot more than arm candy. She just had to be patient.

"The target will be docking soon, when he gets here I want every asari in a defensive formation around him. He's radioed ahead, let us know that he's got a colleague with him. Vizeet and Nigat will pair off, one volus apiece, to make sure they're shielded in case anyone gets by the defensive ring. Shepard," Vera's hard blue eyes turned to her and Shepard made sure her shoulders were squared, chin up. "Think you can handle being the vanguard? Krogan won't be expecting a biotic to greet them if they're bold enough to approach us directly."

Shepard nodded. "Sure thing. I've never fought krogan though. If we do engage, is there a weak spot I should aim for?"

Vera nodded, eyes glinting approval at the human's question. "Their headplates might be harder than rock, but they're also a weakness. You've got that detachable combat knife on you; I hear popping off a krogan headplate is a lot like shucking an oyster on your homeworld. Sound familiar?"

Shepard grimaced. Gruesome.

It wasn't long before they were off, and Shepard was thankful that Vera had actually trusted her to be out front. While it was true that the vanguard position was typically reserved for cannon fodder when you weren't sure what you were up against, it could also be considered a great honor if you knew the person assigning you the task had firsthand experience with your skills. Vera putting Shepard up front meant that, on some level, she recognized Shepard's biotic strength. She was mainly just glad that it let her talk to Garrus. He was 'patrolling' nearby, keeping an eye out for anything sour that might get in the way of their success. She was starting to think things at C-Sec HQ were slow, with the way he found time to constantly be sticking his nose in her recruitment.

"So Garrus, you sure it's okay if I _do_ end up having to kill a krogan or two?" she whispered, just loud enough for Garrus to hear. Her translator had finally gotten an upgrade now that she was an officially recognized guest of the Citadel, now it came with high-quality COMM capabilities. The transdermal earpiece was hidden from view, hiding just beneath the skin of her inner ear. She didn't know the specifics of the procedure and didn't want to know, she'd just sort of purposefully blanked out during the quick procedure. Translators nowadays were just about _required_ for living, no matter what planet you lived on, so it only made sense that their capabilities extended to surveillance, communication, and radio. The companies that fabricated the translators also made house calls, so Garrus had set up the appointment for her and Liara had hovered in the background while an asari technician performed the upgrade. Shepard had been on her best behavior, polite and gracious, and had fought back a giggle when she caught sight of Liara narrowing her eyes at the technician when she'd returned Shepard's grin.

 _"If you think you can. Don't try anything flashy, try to let the mercs do all the work."_ Garrus replied. _"No one in C-Sec is going to shed tears over spilled krogan blood."_

"Racist," she tutted. She cast a casual glance over her shoulder.

The two volus were short, squat, and rotund. Their suits were a matching purple color with grey stripes down the center of their potbellied tummies. As a race, Shepard found volus kind of irritating; their stilted, gasping speech made her temples itch and they'd both assumed she was a moron when Vera had introduced them to her. Vera had only snickered in response. Rather than try to socialize or make eye contact with anyone she was content to play the part of ambling human merc exploring the Zakera docks for the first time. She made sure to stare at the shopfronts and was overly apologetic to the aliens she purposefully bumped into. Playing the part of a tourist was only minutely troublesome, considering she still very much was one. The metals hallways and neon lights were cool, but Shepard was already beginning to miss non-ventilated air. Only being able to see the sky through a window was going to drive her nuts eventually, she could tell already. Old Manhattan was by no means beautiful, but there were still some scattered handfuls of scraggly maples in the ruins of Central Park if you knew where to look. They even still changed colors in the fall!

An asari shouldered past her, roughly, but before Shepard could spit venom she realized it was Vera. Shepard narrowed her eyes, brows drawing together in concern. "What's-"

Vera turned, grabbing Shepard by the upper arm. "Our lookout on the upper dock just radioed in. There's a lot more krogan than we were expecting. I just called for backup, I have to make sure they get there before we do."

"Okay, but why go alone?" Shepard asked. "What if you get there before the backup squad and a bunch of krogan catch you by yourself?"

"I'm not going alone, you're coming with me." Ah, so that was why Shepard was being dragged forward at a painful pace. Vera had _nails._

Vera had left the squad behind with strict instructions not to approach the target destination without her explicit go ahead. If the krogan weren't taken care of before the volus entered the dock, there was a very high chance that at least one of them would be lost and the Eclipse band would lose credits. That wasn't an option. If they could get the jump on the krogan however, then they'd be in the clear. The asari squad captain was quiet on the way to the dock, practically stoic. Shepard didn't bother trying to start up any sort of dialogue, she wasn't the type for small talk.

At one point they stepped off a private elevator and Vera put a hand to her aural cavity, presumably to receive an incoming message. She cursed quietly and pulled Shepard aside, away from the foot traffic. A pair of turians watched them curiously as they stalked by, avian-like legs bending in a way that made Shepard's eyes uncomfortable if she stared for too long.

"How good are you at being a distraction?" Vera asked, hands on Shepard's slim shoulders.

"Not very," Shepard responded, nervously. "Why?"

"Because I need you to be one." Vera grinned. "I call this one, 'Chase the Human.'"

 _You've gotta be kidding me-_ Vera grabbed two thick fistfuls of Shepard's jacket and her body lit up with a biotic glow. With look on her face that was too damn satisfied to be apologetic she lifted, turned, and _chucked_ Shepard across the dock floor. She flew through the air with a shriek that was so believable it could have been real (because it was), hitting the hard metal floor with a bodily smack and sliding. "What the _fuck-"_ Shepard propped herself up, shaking away the stars. Vera was still encased in biotic energy, bearing down on her with murder in her eyes. For a moment, Shepard was scared. But then Vera winked, flicking her gaze upwards.

Shepard turned and saw the blood-red armor of a half dozen krogan mercs just down the hall. Some had turned to see what the commotion was about, and an idea popped into Shepard's head. She turned back to Vera with a grin of her own. Then she was up, sprinting down the hallway with a schooled expression of terror. "Help! Help, this crazy chick is nuts!"

"Get back here, you little punk!" Vera roared, charging after her as Shepard ran straight for the throng of krogan. All of them were looking their way now, some amused and others already annoyed. She looked for the one in charge, praying it was the one with the biggest hump. Shepard dodged a biotic shockwave, one that Vera carefully aimed to displace the krogan's formation. They scattered, barely, and Shepard used the distraction to duck behind the leader. She hid, like a child in his great shadow, ducking out of view. Vera approached the krogan cautiously, glaring at Shepard all the while. "Hey, hand over the human. She stole my shotgun!"

The krogan that Shepard was hiding behind turned, raising his arm to catch a glimpse of the cowardly human using him as a buffer. What an irritating little pyjak. She had to have quite the quad though to steal a gun from an Eclipse girl. A chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he grabbed the human by the scruff of her jacket. She yelped, still playing the part of terrified thief. "Didn't anyone tell you that stealing was bad, human?" he said, with a voice like a metal saw shearing through stone.

"I didn't steal anything!" Shepard squeaked.

"It's right there on your hip, you brat!" Vera shouted, throwing a hand up in emphasis. The krogan looked and saw the gun, an old Eviscerator model with a barrel extension. He pulled it from the human's belt, ignoring the insult the human tossed his way. He hummed as he regarded it with a gunman's eye. It was a nice piece, and he'd been meaning to get a new shotgun…

"Tell you what," the krogan rumbled. "Normally I'd crack both your skulls against the floor for bothering me while I'm on a job, but I like this gun. So, I'm going to keep it, kill the human for you, and let you go about your day. Generous, I know." He grinned a crocodile grin, rows of teeth exposed. Shepard's eyes went wide in alarm. On the inside, Vera cursed. Maybe this wasn't such a solid plan. Shepard was still green, Vera should have known krogan would be too much for her to handle…

But then Shepard surprised her. Vera would, in fact, soon learn that Shepard was full of surprises.

"Well, before you kill me you really should have the whole gun..." Shepard said, an aggressive lilt to her teasing tone. The combat knife she'd slipped from the shotgun on the sly was now in her hand, and she was grinning. Before the krogan could drop her or, what would have been more likely, chuck her across the dock, a biotic glow flared to life around her hand and arm. With a biotically-enhanced jab Shepard sunk the knife in up to it's hilt, just under the dark green shell of the krogan's headplate. With a pop and a sickening crunch, Shepard learned that popping off a krogan headplate _was_ a lot like shucking an oyster.

There were shouts and cries and the arming of guns, and as the hulking giant of a dying krogan crashed to the floor Vera's biotics reached out to pull Shepard to safety. The young human came flying into the squad captain's grasp, and Vera looked impressed. "Nice one kid, and it looks like reinforcements are here." Indeed, another troop of Eclipse mercs was approaching from the rear, already combating the scrambling krogan with a wave of suppressing fire. "Come on," Vera said. She raised a hand and Shepard's Eviscerator model came sliding across the floor, encased in biotic energy. She returned it to Shepard, who was still coming to terms with the fact that krogan blood was _bright_ orange with a look of disgust on her face. "Let's fall back to cover, radio the squad."

Shepard went willingly, taking a brief moment while Vera was looking elsewhere to update Garrus. "Had to kill a krogan, firefight on dock C47." She kept her voice lower than a whisper.

 _"Got it. Stay alive and out of trouble."_

Alive, she could do. Out of trouble? That remained to be seen.

"Not bad, Shepard. That bodyguard boast you made at Pandora's Box seems a lot less like a boast now," a familiar voice chimed from behind her. Shepard turned and saw Illia, one of the asari that had been at the bar the night Shepard had been introduced to Eclipse, crouched beside her. "Speaking of the Box… I actually have a message for you from one of our agents on Illium."

Shepard blinked, the sound of gunfire in the background surely must have made her hear that wrong. She didn't _know_ anyone from Illium. She didn't even know where Illium _was._ "Uh… what is it?"

"I'll tell you once the job is done. Jona wants to talk to you, anyway." Illia said, unclipping a heavy pistol from her hip and moving forward to join Vera. Vera sensed her approach and acknowledged her appearance with a brief nod.

"Didn't take long for you to show up," Vera said. "What does Jona want now?"

"She wanted to make sure Shepard didn't get herself killed. Apparently Morinth is _very_ interested in this one. Once I was able to prove Shepard wasn't Alliance in disguise, the damn monster practically started _salivating."_

Vera grimaced. The poor kid had no idea what she was in for. "So, her story checks out?"

Illia nodded. "Yeah, everything's green. I even got in touch with a few of my Shadow Broker contacts just to be sure; it's not every day we get a human biotic raring to join the cause. Poor kid's just one of the dozens of human orphans the Citadel's been seeing since the Relay 314 Incident. She was in the Reds for nearly a decade, no birth records or family ties, just lots of arrest reports and tips from Earth-based brokers to fill in the gaps. The Reds really _do_ have a biotic initiative, with very loose ties to Cerberus."

Vera made a surprised sound. "Really? How loose?"

Illia glanced back at Shepard. The human was distracted by the gunfight, eyes glued to the scene. "So loose the kids probably don't even know what Cerberus is." _I wonder if that's a blessing or a curse._

It turned out that the agent from Illium that Illia had been talking about was the asari that put out a bounty on Grim. Shepard had been flustered when Illia passed along the commando's thanks, brushing it off with discomfort clear in her dark eyes. The asari chalked it up to nerves and decided to let it go for the time being. She could always look into it later. The reinforcements had made quick work of the remaining krogan and after the bodies had been cleared away by a separate cleanup crew, half a dozen dock workers came out of hiding. Shepard was surprised by the mechanical rotation of it all. None of the workers seemed all that perturbed by the firefight. Shepard had thought that the Citadel was supposed to be peaceful, civilized or something like that.

"You'd think the workers would be a little less… _used_ to this."

Vera had outright _laughed_ at her when she'd said so. For what felt like the hundredth time Shepard had to listen to an alien explain that the almighty Council couldn't give less of a shit about poor old Zakera. Too many humans, quarians… undesirables. It was the poverty arm of the Citadel. Fitting for her, then.

The two volus they'd been tasked with escorting came plodding along with the rest of the squad Shepard had met downstairs soon after the last splash of acidic krogan blood was wiped up. Not a single member of their escort had had to fire a gun, and the client was very happy about that. Her first mission, her first _test_ if she was being honest, was shaping up to be a satisfying pass. Hopefully she'd have a chance to update Garrus and let him know the job was done; as surprisingly chill as Vera had turned out to be Shepard preferred to be home sooner rather than later. Of course, 'home' wasn't the apartment she shared with Liara anymore. As a part of her cover, to keep the Eclipse mercs from finding out about Liara and her research, after any job was done Shepard would either have to head straight to the apartment in the Spartan district or lose herself in a crowd at a bar when she had a better handle on where the easiest security cams to hack were set up. Garrus had warned her that Eclipse was rife with talented information brokers, information brokers that would be perfectly capable of figuring out that Shepard wasn't being a hundred percent honest with them if she was strolling back to a lush apartment off the Silversun Strip after every mission. Until they were both sure that the Eclipse mercs trusted her, Shepard would be walking on eggshells.

"Shepard, over here."

Vera was calling her. Shepard had gone to stand by one of the windows while Illia and Vera had spoken with the client. Now, the volus was gone and Shepard could see the ship through the window on the opposite side of the dock getting ready to take off. She hurried over to where her squad leader stood, just as Illia was turning to leave. Shepard watched her go, surprised. "What's up? I thought Jona wanted to talk to me?"

"Something came up. She'll reschedule. You did good, runt. Here," Vera shoved a credit chit into her hand. Shepard's brows drew together in confusion. Before she could question it, Vera put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing in a manner that was almost friendly. "I know you already have your own, but this one's for your Eclipse pay. It's for the organization's safety; our brokers make sure no one's dealing with other groups or spending money somewhere they shouldn't be." Vera winked at her. "Plus, no one here _really_ trusts you yet. We're not about to give you five thousand credits and send you on your way without some way of tracking you down."

A cold drop of sweat dragged down the back of her neck like a skeletal finger. "Fair enough."

"If you feel like being social, the squad's going out for drinks. Not the Box this time though, we save that for nights when Jona has to meet with _real_ nasties." Vera grinned, shark-like, but the viciousness was not directed at Shepard. "The night we met you we actually had to hide a dead turian in the walk-in. You hadn't ordered anything to eat, right?"

Shepard did her best to ignore the asari's twisted sense of humor. "No, just wine. Where _are_ you going, if not the Box? I'm not exactly familiar with the local hot spots yet."

"It's in the Jonu Wards, Gorgon District. You can hitch a ride with me, if you want." There was an uncomfortable pause, and when Vera spoke again it sounded like she was trying to make her tone suggestive but failing purposefully. "…Morinth usually hangs out there. I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."

Shepard hummed, looking down at her hands. She'd rolled the sleeves of her jacket up as was her habit (she _hated_ the feeling of loose fabric around her wrists), and that had saved them from the worst of the krogan blood but her hands and forearms had not been so lucky. "Thanks, but if Jona doesn't need me for anything I think I'm just gonna head back home. This shit, uh… burns. Is it supposed to do that?"

Vera seemed surprised, but to Shepard it almost seemed like it was more than that. It was almost like she hadn't heard Shepard properly, couldn't fathom that the human wasn't _jumping_ at the chance to see Morinth again. Which, while an odd reaction to Shepard, was a perfectly understandable reaction from Vera. Why? Because Shepard's refusal went against everything Vera had come to expect from Morinth's playthings. Wasn't total and utter obsession supposed to be part of Morinth's whole… schtick? Once she made contact with a potential partner she became all they could think about. Vera watched Shepard's face carefully. The human seemed genuinely disinterested. Why was that?

She subconsciously leaned forward and breathed in. Her dark blue eyes narrowed. _Huh._

"Suit yourself? Illia will be in contact with you soon. She handles all the smart stuff for the squad. Consider your first job a success."

 **Apartment 0336, Spartan District | Citadel | September 20** **th** **2174**

"You know, Brooklyn would have hated it here."

Garrus looked up from his datapad. He'd been running a search on bars in the Gorgon District, trying to figure out which ones were the likeliest candidates for the Eclipse watering hole Shepard's squad leader had mentioned. It would take a while for the algorithms to run their course however, so he'd shot off a few quick messages to other officers in C-Sec he trusted. Hopefully one or two might be more familiar with Eclipse activity in the Jonu Ward. Working with organized merc gangs was tough; being a merc wasn't necessarily _illegal_ but they did a lot of illegal things. Arresting them was a pain in the ass, and your case had to be airtight because the bigger the organization the better the lawyers they had in their pocket.

But Shepard had already made face-to-face contact with Jona Sedaris, and that was _big._ Suddenly, Garrus had an actual _reason_ to keep up with Shepard's progress. Sedaris was probably one of the most wanted criminals in Council Space, but you couldn't touch her politically. She was so thickly wrapped in red tape she was practically wearing a _gown_ of it. The asari Councilor was useless when it came to prosecuting major asari criminals, and several asari Spectres were infamously involved with Eclipse dealings. The moment you had solid proof that Sedaris had tortured someone beyond legal measure or poisoned a supply of emergency colony rations on behalf of an anonymous benefactor, the proof seemed to disappear. It was either commandeered by a Spectre or found to be 'inconclusive' by the Council.

If Garrus could get Shepard's help in bringing her down, have an ear on the inside, that would make his career. And more importantly, it would save a lot of lives. But he wouldn't let her worry about that yet, first she actually had to get _in_ with the crew.

"You mean your dog?" He asked.

Shepard had shed her jacket and was still trying to get the last of the krogan blood out from underneath her fingernails. They'd agreed to downplay the violence for Liara's sake once Garrus got the all clear from the techies and it was safe for Shepard to go back to the Tiberius Towers. Since they had to deal with information brokers and vigilantes on a near-daily basis C-Sec had a 24/7 observational team keeping an eye out for unsavory parties hacking into security feeds. Whenever an undercover agent had to be moved the techies made sure no one was watching. After explaining Liara and Shepard's situation as best as he could without giving away any Prothean details, they'd all been down to help out. Most of them were used to working with the bare-minimum when it came to information, after all.

"Yeah!" Shepard shouted back. "The air is so dry and triple-filtered. Everything is so sanitary and… enclosed." Garrus heard the stream of water cut off and then Shepard appeared at the doorway, drying her hands off with a towel. "Not to be rude, but I already miss Earth. Space life is definitely _not_ for me. My hair is already starved for moisture."

Garrus cocked his head. "Is it… supposed to be wet?"

Shepard blinked at him. "Uh… never mind. Anyway, the credit chit they gave me is on the coffee table. I figure I could use it for ammo and armor and, well… booze. Typical merc stuff. It'll be weird if I don't use it at all, right?"

"Right. You might want to reach out to your krogan friend, ask him where to shop. And the few humans at C-Sec finally got back to me about where you can go for food, I'll go ahead and forward that to your omni-tool." Shepard looked relieved, and Garrus chuckled as he sent along the information he'd received not too long ago. Funnily enough, a P.S. at the bottom of the memo had warned Shepard not to trust a man named 'Tony,' a wine purveyor that liked to scam people by watering down his wares. "And you'll get used to space life, mostly everyone does. VR tends to help with the claustrophobia, though I don't know how much you're into gaming."

Shepard shrugged. "I didn't get to do it a lot back on Earth, and I don't really see the appeal. Now more than ever, if I want to see the Swiss Alps I can hop on a transport and be there in a matter of days."

"…you mean, after you finish translating that ancient Prothean text you don't _really_ understand and you've earned some PTO with Eclipse, right?" He quipped sarcastically, grinning, but his face fell when Shepard's shoulders sank.

She sighed. "Yeah. Right. After all that. Whenever that is."

Uneasy silence fell over them as Shepard flopped down onto the nearest couch. Garrus drummed his talons along his knee, trying to look anywhere but at the human he'd just made sad.

 _Great job, Vakarian. Way to make her feel like a jailbird. You're trying to help her feel like a normal person, Garrus, with a normal if not incredibly dangerous job. Try to remember that the next time you want to joke about how she doesn't get to make her own decisions._

 _…any time now, techies._

* * *

 _Trying out a new writing method. So far it's been working wonders but it took a while to fall into._

 _But I'm back!_

 _-Cel_


	10. Chapter 10

**Apartment 1470, Tiberius Towers** **| Citadel | September 25** **th** **2174**

Now that Shepard had access to her own food, Liara could barely get her out of the kitchen. The grinning human was constantly baking, sautéing, or boiling things that made the entire apartment smell wonderful. Usually. Liara had never been much of a cook. Growing up, living in her mother's house meant most of her meals were prepared by trained chefs. Then at school, her meals were _also_ prepared by professionals. There had been a lengthy adjustment period when she'd gone on her first dig and been introduced to military-grade rations, but the point of it all was that Liara had rarely been forced to prepare her own meals. Even today she preferred to eat out or buy pre-made meals that could be swiftly and painlessly warmed up or put together.

Shepard, clearly, was the utter opposite.

The only meal she'd eaten that she hadn't prepared herself since she'd first gone to the human grocer tucked away in what was the Citadel equivalent of a slum (a human-only district in Zakera Ward not far from Shepard's cover apartment) had been the tacos Garrus had brought her when she'd officially been declared a free woman. Liara hadn't gone with her to the grocer yet as Shepard was prone to going there, browsing the wares and putting in an order on her way back from an Eclipse mission. She _wanted_ to go, but she hadn't found the courage to ask if it would be possible.

She was also terrified of embarrassing herself in front of her crush.

It seemed odd though, that a poor orphan used to life on the streets would be so passionate about food. How had she even gotten access to quality ingredients while living on the streets? Liara found herself admitting that maybe the 10th Street Reds _had_ taken better care of Shepard than any government organization would have. The Alliance certainly didn't dole out hand-crafted pastas.

"Shepard, will you be done soon?" Liara asked, peeking her head around a corner to peer into the kitchen. She'd learned very quickly that Shepard seemed to get in a very narrowly-focused, hyper-aware mood when she was cooking and that it was best to approach her calmly and quietly. Hovering over her shoulder or idling within touching distance was the quickest route to a grumbling, stiff-backed chef. The young asari had quickly learned that the hard way. In her defense, watching Shepard chop vegetables was an... inspiring experience. Liara could only wonder if it was a biological response common in all humans or just another one of Shepard's idiosyncrasies. Humans were hunter-gatherers after all; perhaps it was an animal instinct to protect their food?

"Yeah!" Shepard called back, grinning. She was sliding a covered tray into the oven, the small towel she'd been using to keep her hands clean draped carelessly over one shoulder. "In fact…" she shut the oven door and set a timer on her omnitool. "I have forty-five minutes before the lasagna needs to be uncovered. Then another fifteen, ten to cool, and we can eat!" Shepard stood with a grin, wiping her hands one final time before she tossed the hand towel onto a clear space on the counter. Shepard kept a tidy kitchen, cleaning as she worked, and Liara wasn't sure if the organizational skills were a surprise or downright fitting.

"Oh! That's good to hear. I wanted to check on your burns, and see if perhaps you were feeling up to working on the Prothean text?"

"Sure! Like I said, I've got nothing to do for the next forty-five minutes except wait for this to bake. I owe you some science time, anyway. Vera's been stealing me from you every other day, it feels like." Shepard had done several more escort jobs over the past few days, though none had been quite as violent as the first. At the end of every mission, Vera had invited Shepard out for drinks but Garrus wanted her to hang back until they got a better understanding of Eclipse's grip on Zakera. He didn't want her disappearing into an Eclipse den with no security cameras to hack. Liara didn't either. However, with each politely refused invitation, Vera had seemed more and more confused. Shepard figured she'd have to say yes soon, or they'd start to get suspicious. That is, if they weren't already.

"Scratches first," Liara reminded her, stepping more fully into the kitchen. She'd bandaged up the worst of the wounds Shepard had suffered from her initiation bout with the Eclipse squad leader and wanted to make sure they were healing properly. She'd also suffered minor chemical burns from prolonged skin contact with the krogan blood she'd spilled on her first mission. Shepard of course insisted that she shouldn't be wearing any bandages around the Eclipse mercs, lest she risk being teased. Better to let them see the wounds and know that Shepard wasn't afraid to get rough. Liara's version of compromise was insisting that Shepard wear bandages while she was home.

Shepard rolled her eyes but nodded dutifully, following Liara to the downstairs bathroom. The human moved with a calm, lazy gait that was a far cry from the stiff shoulders and raised chin Liara had noted during their first encounters. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about owing the human's ease to the return of a violent career path, but she was glad all the same that Shepard seemed to be in high spirits.

It was also a great, satisfying relief that Shepard barely flinched when Liara leaned in close to swipe disinfectant over the healing skin and apply the medi-gel patches. These pesky wounds wouldn't be scarring anytime soon if Liara could help it.

"I did have a request, Professor."

Liara paused, halfway through screwing the cap to a bottle of disinfectant back on. "Yes?"

Shepard turned her head slightly to better make eye contact and as her bangs fell over her face Liara's eyes followed, transfixed. When the human spoke, she sounded like someone that had a far better understanding of the subject they were discussing than their vocabulary might lead you to believe. "Can we try... I don't know, _any_ other method than the one we've been trying? This weird Prothean thing I can do... the understanding that I don't quite understand, it's frustrating. The harder I try to translate, the harder it gets to read anything. It's almost like I need to be caught off guard, like I can't be paying attention." Liara watched her with a researcher's gaze, instantly all business, blue eyes as keen as a surgeon's.

The few translation sessions they'd managed to work in had all gone relatively poorly, much like the first. Liara, still shy around Shepard and unwilling to press past unseen boundaries, was finding it difficult to work as she normally would have. That is, hyper-focused and unrelenting. Shepard's ability to read Prothean was the opposite: fickle, fleeting. Forcing it out of her, having her sit and stare at datapads waiting for the translation to come to her, had been as effective a process as chipping at a stone wall with your own fingernails. All it had resulted in so far had been a few snatches of random phrasing and migraines for Shepard. The headaches then stole any patience Shepard had left for the work, and she'd retreat to her room for a hot shower to alleviate the pounding behind her eyes. It would have been easier to wring smoke out of a wet washcloth.

But something Shepard had said gave Liara an idea, and in her own way she was working through the possibilities. Without being fully conscious of it though, she was still staring pointedly at Shepard. Under Liara's intense scrutiny, Shepard's shoulders scrunched up towards her ears. "What?"

"...that would actually be far more in-line with traditional understandings of the Prothean language. Instinct, not skill." Liara stood suddenly, surprising Shepard. The human rocked back against the sink counter she was sitting on, eyes wide. "The collective unconscious!"

"The what?" Shepard asked, voice taking on that uneasy, gentle quality she grabbed whenever Scientist Liara came roaring to the surface with theories and tests. Keep your head down, let the master work.

"The collective unconscious," Liara said again, bright with the possibilities now pinging behind her gaze at rapid-fire speed. "It's long been theorized that there was an added layer necessary to understand Prothean writings, the proper pair of 'lenses,' if the metaphor is properly translating. Every attempt to create a working lexicon of Prothean symbols has failed spectacularly with few exceptions. When we met, for example, I was able to recognize the symbol for Vigil and a few other scattered pieces that, collectively, made little sense."

Shepard nodded, a much-appreciated sign to continue.

"I don't know why I didn't think of this to begin with! Yes, there are absolutely other methods we can try, perhaps we can put in a request with Serrice University for some of their relic casts. I have the trust of a few of the adjunct professors and it might aid you to have something solid in your hands. And Saren _still_ needs to give you clearance to the Spectre office where the tablets themselves are being kept; the sooner I can get you in front of them the better. Perhaps after I speak with him there tomorrow, he'll be more agreeable towards you once he knows we've got new direction to go in." Liara had begun pacing but didn't seem to realize it until she got ready to make her next point. Her next point, whatever it was, stalled her instantly and Shepard cocked her head. Liara's sudden fire sputtered, a harsh wind blowing over an intellectual bonfire. The asari glanced at Shepard shyly, her fingers fiddling with her labcoat.

"...there is also the meld."

Liara's voice would never be weak, years of home schooling and asari governesses demanding projection befitting the only daughter of a matriarch had seen to that, but Shepard would have been deaf not to have heard the embarrassment. But what was the Meld? Why was it embarrassing? If it could help Shepard help Liara, she would be fine with it. So long as it didn't hurt!

"What would the Meld do?" She asked, innocently.

Her question surprised Liara, and the nervousness in the young asari's eyes grew tenfold. "Y-you mean- have you not heard of the meld? But, in the past you've mentioned..." In the past she'd mentioned rough-and-tumble gangsters engaging with asari dancers, yes. But in that moment, Liara realized Shepard had never once hinted that she understood what went _on_ during a sexual encounter with an asari. Which for one thing meant she'd never been with an asari (a fact that greatly pleased Liara's subconscious, biological instincts), and for another meant that Liara would have to explain what melding was. That was going to be difficult, considering she would have to explain the clinical aspects of the meld to one of the few creatures in the galaxy she might one day be interested in exploring the... physical aspects with. She was going to make an utter _fool_ of herself. Is this what health professors had to deal with on an everyday basis? _Oh, goddess._

"Well, the meld is... well it allows an asari to see into another's mind. It's a joining of consciousnesses. Before we came to learn that there were other species in the galaxy, melding was far more prevalent in asari culture. It can be used to share information, recover memories, handle great emotional duress... and-"

Shepard interrupted her before she could get into asari mating rituals, and she wasn't quite sure if she was relieved.

"Wait, so asari can read minds?" She looked curious, but also scared. Mind-reading was inherently linked with trickery and invasions of privacy to her, a number of old human films and stories had seen to that. She'd never quite gotten over the idea of hearing someone _scream_ inside your own head after she'd read Stephen King's _The_ _Shining_ back when she was a new 10th Street Red initiate exploring the archives of the old library that served as their watering hole. Not that that had been the creepiest thing in the book, but still.

Liara sensed Shepard's apprehension and her tone became reassuring, years of schooling on inter-species relations coming to the forefront of her mind. "In a way, yes. But it is not something we are able to hide, so you would never have to worry about me reading your thoughts without your knowledge. It is something we will always ask permission for; anything less is actually considered criminal by asari law. It is... we only meld with people we care for, or people we want to aid. It can be abused of course, as anything can be, but Shepard _I_ would never do so. Certainly not to you."

"Does it... how does it- well, what would you need me to do?" Shepard asked.

Mild panic. Liara's crest itched with the desire to meld, a biological reaction she was helpless to prevent. Now that the thought, the possibility of melding with Shepard, was in her mind Liara wasn't sure she'd have the mental fortitude to quell it. Each young maiden yearned for their first intimate meld, though many were warned away from short-lived species lest they get their hearts broken when their partners passed. In all her years of study, spurred on by an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, Liara had never met a person she so desperately wanted to _know._ And for asari, one did not _know_ someone until you had the chance to see what their minds might show you.

What would Shepard's mind be like? Liara imagined it would be warm, comforting in the protective sort of manner that Shepard was physically. Liara remembered the feeling of Shepard's hand on the curve of her spine, a casual display of affection and ownership that still made the young asari swoon to think about. Would she see glimpses of Shepard's childhood if they melded? How open would the human's mind be to her? She'd read that humans naturally resisted the meld; their minds were incredibly complex and resisted outside presences. Asari psychologists theorized that this had less to do with the mechanics of human thought and more to do with the minute fluctuations and machinations that controlled their emotions. Humans, unlike other highly intelligent creatures like asari and salarians, could become physically _exhausted_ by their own emotions. Humans in the 22nd century died more often by the effects of mental illnesses than they did by physical ones. They were proving to be a fascinating case study for the asari scientists that studied the effects of the meld on other creatures.

"Ah... well, perhaps we could first move to the sitting area? O-or my workspace upstairs, if you'd be comfortable with that."

Shepard heard the nervousness in Liara's voice and it surprisingly managed to put her at ease. She didn't think someone so nervous could secretly be plotting something sinister. So, when she answered, "Sure, upstairs is fine," her voice was calm and unbothered. Liara had never shown her any ill will in any manner, and Shepard found herself oddly at peace around the asari. She had a calming effect on the air around her, and she was just so genuine that it was becoming easier and easier for Shepard to be genuine back.

She used humor and charm to deal with people she needed things from, but at heart Shepard was a bit of an emotionally stagnant introvert. She knew it, too. If she could have, she would have spent all her time on Earth hanging out with Brooklyn, spending 90% of her budget on cooking _real_ food, and doing odd jobs. People were self-absorbed and opinionated and Shepard preferred animals. Everything was easier with animals.

Liara was different though, Shepard thought as she followed her upstairs, absentmindedly tracing the flattering lines of the asari's lab coat with her eyes. Liara was an individual that valued honesty, she'd said so herself and seemed to live by that value. The asari had given several hints that her upbringing may have been political in some sense; usually the children of public figures were remiss to speak of their actual childhoods but they were fiercely vocal about their values, particularly when those values rebelled against the wishes of their parents. Shepard couldn't be sure unless Liara actually told her about her childhood, because Shepard knew nothing about asari politics and hierarchies and wouldn't even begin to know where to look. She wouldn't want to try anyway; finding things out about the people in your life mean infinitely more if they're the ones telling you. Tracking info down like some sort of amateur sleuth with nothing better to do was invasive and unnecessary.

Liara had been busy. There were datapads and coffee cups scattered everywhere in the upstairs lounge and Shepard's nose twitched. An itch beneath her skin at the sight of so many dirty dishes sprang up immediately and before Liara could gather the courage to bring up their oncoming meld Shepard asked her to wait a moment. The human then bustled around the room, picking up cups and the occasional ration bar wrapper, a look of detached concentration on her face. Liara stood idly by, blinking owlishly, while Shepard hurried back downstairs with an armful of mugs and a fistful of trash. The sound of the faucet in the kitchen turning on full-blast was heard, followed by the return of Shepard a few minutes later with a content expression.

"...Shepard?"

"The only messes that bother me are food messes. I don't mind doing the dishes, so if you could bring all your cups down at the end of the day I'd appreciate it." Shepard grinned sheepishly. "I get itchy thinking about moldy coffee cups."

"Oh!" Liara gasped. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize... normally I'm on the go, it's been so long since I've been able to drink coffee at leisure. I didn't mean to cause you distress."

"No worries!" Shepard reassured. "I'm not up here that often so I didn't see any of it until now. Just for future reference. And if there are any pet peeves you have, like me staying up too late or making too much noise in the kitchen, just let me know. I'll try to fix them." She punctuated her reassurance with a gentle hand on Liara's shoulder, and now that she was up close Liara detected the scent of garlic and the sweet-smelling cooking oil Shepard liked to use. One scent was pleasant, the other overpowering.

"Well, now that you mention it, that ingredient you use when you cook... garlic, if I'm remembering correctly? Would it be possible for you to wash your hands after handling it? It's... very strong." Liara's nose crinkled, as though it were attempting to aid in her description.

Shepard retracted her hand and gave it a sniff. She chuckled when she answered, "Sure thing. Sometimes I have to remind myself that not everybody's Italian. We're always happy to swim in the stuff."

Liara cocked her head. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Shepard's eyes lit up. "That's right, we've never actually talked about this! You always seem so sad when I mention the whole orphan deal, so this might cheer you up. I may know next to nothing about my parents, but I _do_ know that I'm at least some part Italian. It's the reason why I'm so into cooking! See this?" Shepard reached just under the collar of her short-sleeved C-Sec lounge shirt, a loose gray article of clothing that was soft and smelled of fresh laundry. She pulled out a thin gold chain with two small medallions attached, both also a brightly polished gold. "Ever since I can remember, I've had this. It's the only thing I have that connects me to my past, before the Reds."

"What is it?" Liara asked, stepping closer to try and better understand what was being shown to her. Instinct told her it was another weird human allegiance thing, one of their many forms of familial connection.

"It's a Saints medal! Well, one of them is. The other tells me that I was, at some point, baptized. The writing on the baptism medal is Italian, so I figure that means I must be! At least a little bit, anyway." But Liara had no idea what 'Italian,' meant, or even what Italy was. She knew woefully little about Earth, about human nations and cultures. She really only knew what Shepard had told her about Old Manhattan and some necessary basics about the history of the Alliance.

So, Shepard told Liara about how beautiful Italy was, about how in the late 2120s a few rich individuals made a concerted effort to turn most of the country into a cultural preserve, blocking nearly all attempts at further development and channeling resources into the protection of the country's environment. Venice, close to sinking completely, had been raised and reinforced. The government, unstable for so long, had calmed. Italy wasn't the only country on Earth to have been granted such protections, just the one Shepard cared about the most. (Though she wouldn't have been averse to checking out New Zealand).

Still, Liara didn't understand what any of it _meant._ She wasn't human. She didn't know their story. Shepard struggled to articulate why it mattered that she had a history to connect to. Humans clung to their nationalities and cultures the way turians clung to discipline and their sense of honor. Shepard knew _nothing_ about her family, couldn't even be sure that the name she had was the one her parents meant for her, but she knew she was in some way connected to Italy. That reassured her, and she'd spent much of her young life learning everything she could about Italian-American culture and Italian history. Of course, Italian representation in her home country's media was woefully underwhelming; it didn't take a genius to know that Hollywood cared more about the profitability of romanticizing mob life than it did the genuine portrayal of Italian people.

Finding out that her people used to get lynched had also been a very weird discovery. She'd tried to _skim_ through that particular chapter of the textbook.

And despite her lack of understanding, Liara listened with rapt attention. Not because she was curious, but because this was the most open Shepard had been with her since they'd met. The human spoke with a clear intellect and great care for what she described, and her eyes were bright. She seemed happy, positive, dare she say even upbeat.

"I know it's weird," Shepard said when Liara asked again why it _mattered_ so much to her. "But... it just feels nice to know yourself. Acting like... like knowing I'm some part Italian somehow helps me know who I am as a person. It gives me some level of history I wouldn't have otherwise. I can't say, 'yeah I inherited my eyes from my dad,' but I can at least say, 'I'm passionate about food because I'm Italian.' Does that make sense?"

"I suppose... but do all Italian people care about the culinary arts equally?"

"It's deeply ingrained in our culture, so I'd have to say yes. With some give and take, of course."

And perhaps it did make sense to Liara, in that moment. When Shepard said 'our,' and not 'they,' she understood.

"So this Saints medal, it's meant to offer protection? Like a totem, of sorts?" Liara asked, hands folded in her lap. They'd migrated to the couch and sat rather close together, shoulders almost touching. Shepard had shown her a few pictures of what she'd called 'wine country,' on her omni-tool and Liara had no problem admitting that Italy was quite beautiful. The floating city had been particularly interesting, a marvel of engineering and that infamous human stubbornness. Shepard nodded and actually reached up to undo the clasp at the back of her neck, handling it gingerly and passing her necklace into Liara's care. The metal was warm, and the human writing inscribed on both medals was foreign to Liara. But the depictions of human figures were clear enough, though their manner of dress was unfamiliar. "What totem do you possess?" Liara asked.

When Shepard did not immediately answer, Liara looked up. Her question had dulled Shepard's enthusiasm, and the human's eyes had clouded over. Her shoulders had sunk. "You know, it's funny. I just realized something." She gestured to one of the two medals, which depicted a human male cradling a child. Both had halos around their heads. "Saint Anthony. The patron saint of lost things. Fitting, isn't it?" There was a quiet pause, Liara sensing that Shepard had more to say. The human looked introspective, distracted. She looked like a person that had taken an unexpected detour down memory lane. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. "I wonder if my parents knew something I didn't."

Not for the first time and certainly not the last, Liara's heart broke for Shepard. She sounded so small, so uncertain, and Liara could practically taste the pain hiding behind the self-deprecating humor.

Liara glanced back down at the necklace in her grasp. She took one end in each hand and raised it, turning back to Shepard. "May I?"

Blushing, Shepard acquiesced after she shook herself from the fog she'd entered and turned. Liara placed the necklace back around the girl's neck, struggling with the unfamiliar mechanics of the clasp for a moment before it closed and she let go. She kept her hands steady on Shepard's shoulders however, rubbing reassuring circles with her thumbs while she thought of what to say.

"In my experience..." She began. Shepard turned her head to listen. "Lost things usually end up found. Maybe not always by the people that lost them, but by new hands. They find new homes. Like my research with the Protheans; while it's highly unlikely that a Prothean will ever walk the halls of the Citadel again, our people have reclaimed it. Made it into something new. And we never forget where our gifts come from; we honor and remember their creators even if we don't really know them. I don't know your parents any more than you do, Shepard... but without them you wouldn't be here. So, wherever they are, I'm grateful to them."

There was a sniffle. "Well, shit." Before Liara had a chance to grow concerned, Shepard turned back around with a familiar grin. Her eyes were watery, but she was no longer upset. "Why didn't you warn me you could be such a smooth talker?"

Liara, bashful, ducked her head and ran a hand over her crest. Shepard watched. "W-well," she stuttered. "You were upset, I wanted to help."

"You did. Thanks. So, this melding thing... how does it work?"

"Well," Liara began, turning to face Shepard more fully. Shepard did the same, mirroring Liara's position. "All you'll need to do is relax. Humans resist the meld initially, so the best thing you can do is trust me. Let me in, trust that I won't hurt you. Have you ever meditated?" Shepard shrugged, which probably meant no. Liara worried at her bottom lip, wondering if it would be too bold to let Shepard know that she could hold Liara's hands if it might help. Usually, having a grounding force was a great aid for first-timers. "There's a phrase, a mantra really, that I'll say to focus myself. Are you, should I- well." Liara took a deep, steadying breath. She could do this. They'd just shared a tender moment, which meant that there really wouldn't be a better time to try this with Shepard. She couldn't let nerves get in the way.

She asked if Shepard was ready. Shepard said yes.

Very well. " _Embrace eternity."_

Liara's eyes turned black, and for a heart stopping moment Liara was terrified that Shepard would reject her outright. Right before she went under, as her eyes opened she caught sight of Shepard's eyes widening in fear. Rational thought told Liara that the fear was owed to the sudden and drastic change to her eye color; she'd forgotten to warn Shepard that that would happen. But then she found herself slipping below the surface, found Shepard's mind as easily as she would have found her own nose. Finding Shepard's mind had never been the problem however, it was getting in that gave Liara cause for concern. She'd only ever melded with other asari and that was for innocent, platonic means. Her mother, for example, had often calmed Liara after a nightmare with a gentle meld, shushing her fears and rocking her back to slumber.

Melding with Shepard without knowing what she was looking for or how to even get her foot in the door at all was definitely going to be a process. First, she gently pushed at the natural barrier between them, felt it give with an impressive level of bubble-like surface tension. There was no sudden cry of pain, no retaliation on Shepard's part, so Liara tried again with more force. It was vaguely like working your way through a liquid house of mirrors, passing from one place to another all while catching glimpses of things that might be there but also might just as easily be fifty feet away. The walls of Shepard's consciousness bent and gave to accommodate her, which was a good sign, but they did not allow her to pass.

 _Shepard must know that I'm here. Surely, she feels my presence._

She tried calling out, projecting warmth and safety, reassurance that she was not there to steal or to harm. That sent out a ripple over the protective barrier, the first sign of contact being made, and the progress spurred Liara onward. She tried again, varying her calls, projecting different feelings and hoping that one combination might let her through. Shepard was receptive to warmth, to openness and honesty. Liara imagined that it would have been very difficult for anyone to force their way into Shepard's mind, and knew that there would be no small amount of pain on Shepard's part.

 _I'm sure_ _her mind is beautiful... she's captured my attention in such a short amount of time. There is a quick, analytical wit_ _behind the aggressive_ _front, empathy to balance_ _the_ _intense survival skills. A drive to understand, a desire to belong and be valued. She is so very human, so worthy of life._

By the time the barrier gave and Liara was allowed to slip inside, she was already exhausted. She was not used to having to project herself so loudly, to have to extend her own consciousness so vigorously. Melding with a resistant partner was like using your mind to climb a sheer ice wall with your bare hands. Sweat had begun to bead at her temples back on the physical plane, and she'd subconsciously reached out to grasp Shepard's hand to steady herself. Shepard, for her part, had gone completely still. Her eyes were at half mast, pupils blown. It was a trance-like state, one that Liara's soft projections had lulled her into.

Now that Liara was inside, she knew she had to be quick. As much as she wanted to take her time and familiarize herself with Shepard's consciousness, maybe browse through the memories closest to the surface and see what Shepard saw, she couldn't. If her notion was correct, she'd have to dig deep. Any sign of the collective unconscious within Shepard's mind would be hidden; the girl knew next to nothing about the Protheans themselves which suggested that any contact with Prothean data or devices would have been made when she was very young. So far back that she couldn't remember it.

Liara wouldn't have the capacity to wade through tides of memories. She'd have to go _far_ , like a diver seeking buried treasure, and hope that some sign of a Prothean presence would gleam at her from the ocean floor.

With a deep, steadying breath, she took the plunge.

Shepard would never be sure how long the meld lasted, because when she opened her eyes it felt like only mere seconds had passed. But then Liara was there before her, gasping for breath and shaking. Alarmed, Shepard reached out and steadied the exhausted maiden, who had raised a hand to her glistening forehead and was struggling to string words together in a coherent sentence.

"Yes," she gasped. "There, deep in- when you were young..." She sunk into Shepard's hold, collapsing against the human's shoulder. The exhaustion hadn't physically hit her until she'd ended the meld, and when it did it came all at once. Black spots danced across her vision, and her mouth was dry. If they were to make _any_ discernible sense of the initial impressions Liara had received, they were going to need to practice. A lot. "Forgive me, Shepard, I was not expecting it be so difficult."

"Are you okay?" Shepard asked, tucking an arm around the asari's shoulders and pulling her in close. So what if the action made heat rush to her cheeks? Liara needed the warmth.

"Y-yes, I will be. I should be fine after some rest."

"Should I keep an eye on you?" Shepard asked. She hadn't been expecting _this,_ this sudden exhaustion. The drastic shift was alarming. Was it normal? Was Liara okay? "You're kind of worrying me."

Even though Liara tried to reassure her that she fine, that Shepard didn't need to fuss, Shepard still insisted on escorting the asari to bed. Then, before Liara had a chance to call her back, Shepard disappeared downstairs only to return with a steaming mug of tea.

"Green, to help you relax." Shepard said. Then she pulled up a chair and sat on it backwards, folding her arms over the top of it. "So, see anything interesting?"

Liara sipped at her tea, crest itching with a heady mix of pleasure and embarrassment at being fussed over so caringly. Shepard had gone so far as to arrange her pillows so Liara could sit up and drink her tea without difficulty. "Yes," she replied, exhaustion clear in her voice. "I couldn't tell you what is was for certain, but there was something there. A... presence. Something that was not yours."

"That sounds ominous."

"It's not harmful," Liara clarified. "What I detected seemed to be dormant, which would explain why your ability to understand the Prothean language is so scattered. I'll... I'd like to try again later, after I've brushed up on the latest papers written about the collective unconscious. They'll help point me in the right direction."

"After you get some sleep, you mean," Shepard said with a grin, and it _was_ a statement, not a question. Liara took another sip of her tea and nodded acquiescently.

* * *

 _There aren't enough Italians in media. Liara's a cutie. Morinth isn't going to be happy that Shepard's been turning down Eclipse's invitations to drink._

 _-Cel_


	11. Chapter 11

**Apartment 1470, Tiberius Towers** **| Citadel | September 28** **th** **2174**

Shepard's next invitation to drink with the Eclipse sisters, the one she'd feared she wouldn't be able to turn down, came a lot sooner than Liara had been hoping. Shepard's squad leader had sent a message early that morning, which contained a mission brief about a hunt-and-capture job and a not-so-subtle hint that team bonding was going to be mandatory afterwards. In Vera's own words, _"Tonight's important. We're heading_ _straight for the bar after the job. You're riding with me."_ The location of said meeting hadn't been included in the message, which wasn't a surprise, so Shepard had called Garrus over to discuss their plan of action.

The two of them were speaking now, heads ducked together as they surveyed a map of the Zakera Wards. Liara sat a short distance away in a plush armchair, resting in a pile of blankets and pillows that Shepard had arranged for her. She cradled a mug of tea in her hands, another gift from Shepard's protective side. They'd melded a few more times in the past couple of days, but it was still incredibly difficult for Liara to access the deeper reaches of Shepard's mind without exhausting herself. Shepard had become something of a doting nurse in that time, claiming that she felt guilty for being the cause of Liara's exhaustion. She tended to follow Liara around the apartment now, bringing her snacks and drinks and constantly asking if she needed anything. It was a sharp contrast from the anti-social, skittish animal that had once stayed hidden in her room.

Liara enjoyed the attention immensely. Her only quibble would have been that Shepard didn't quite seem to _hear_ her when she said that she wasn't hungry.

"What makes you so sure that you'll be heading back to Pandora's Box for this little get-together?" Garrus asked Shepard. He had a team of C-Sec engineers assigned to run encrypted surveillance programs on security feeds throughout a few key districts in the Jonu wards tonight, but Shepard kept insisting that it wasn't necessary. She seemed certain that they'd be going to Pandora's Box, and if that was the case he'd already made her memorize the security feed coverage maps and installed a hacking program into her omni-tool. It wasn't C-Sec branded, it was actually one he'd asked to borrow from an undercover agent they had operating in Chora's Den. The agent had designed the hack herself, so in a worst-case scenario where Shepard would have to use it none of Eclipse's information brokers would find it suspicious. The Citadel security feeds were hacked a lot more often than the average citizen might think, so it was all a matter of _who_ did the hacking that raised questions.

"My squad captain said something to me on my first job: 'We save Pandora's Box for the real nasties.' I just get the feeling that this important 'thing' she's talking about might be along those lines."

"You think there'll be trouble?" Garrus asked, leaning forward and growing even more serious. His voice was low, the reverberating hum of it made it sound like he was itching for a fight. At least Shepard thought that was what it sounded like. Shepard was slowly getting better at reading turian expressions and moods. Garrus was a good turian to practice with; the two of them were on remarkably similar wavelengths and got along very well. They could both be sarcastic assholes, but they also each had a fierce protective streak a mile wide. Having similar senses of humor greatly helped Shepard see Garrus as an individual, and identifying individuals was the first step on the road of being able to distinguish turian faces from one another.

Shepard shrugged, puffing out a huff of anxious air. "Possibly. The last 'nasty,' they dealt with was a turian that ended up dead and stuffed in the walk-in fridge."

"Lovely. So, and I'm sure this goes without saying, you're gonna want to eat _before_ you head out. I'll see if I can get an inconspicuous team in there to look for evidence under the guise of a health inspection. Depending on who that turian was, we might be able to get the Box temporarily shut down. Don't want anybody catching food poisoning."

Shepard nodded, rising and heading into the kitchen. "Good point, I can whip something up. You hungry? I actually stopped by a dextro market and picked you up some stuff the other day."

Garrus looked up from the datapad he was reviewing. He blinked once before his mandibles twitched and, in a small voice, asked, "Really?"

"You're here all the time, and I've never seen you eat. But then the other day I remembered that you can't eat the same food we do, so I asked around and found a turian grocer that'd actually sell to me. Now, you have no excuse," Shepard said with a grin. "Come on! You'll have to tell me if I got ripped off, because I had no idea what the fuck I was buying."

Garrus jumped up like an excited schoolboy and followed Shepard into the kitchen. Liara, from her armchair nest, heard clanging and shuffling and happy banter. She sipped at her tea with a serene smile on her face, eyes closed as she basked in their unlikely trio's easy camaraderie. And when she heard Garrus cry out, _"Chocolate!" w_ ith unbridled excitement, she giggled.

 **Pandora's Box** **| Citadel | September 28** **th** **2174**

The job had been easy. The only setback had been the turian merc lying in wait behind the shipping crates Shepard had careened past after taking out a pair of grunts with a biotic charge. She'd barely set her feet back on solid ground before she was staring down the barrel of a shotgun. Taking the hit at near point-blank range had fried her shields, which had _hurt._ Vera was right, she really needed to work on her barrier. Maybe Liara would be able to help.

But after they'd taken care of the remaining mercs, a group hired to protect a rogue agent Eclipse had been tasked with tracking down and hauling back to their benefactor, Vizeet and his brother had actually _fretted_ over her. It had been rather surprising. The tall salarian brothers had immediately hurried over to where she'd slumped down against the shipping crates, slapping medi-gel on her burns and checking her shield processor for any signs of permanent damage. Vizeet and his brother were the squad medics on top of being engineers, experienced with all manner of burns and cryo-bites. They'd both seemed relieved when they learned that the only damage Shepard had suffered had been from the shield's energy discharge when it went offline, reassuring her that once the tingling sensations went away she would be perfectly fine. The second they were gone, off to check on the rest of the squad, she'd lowly muttered a quick update to Garrus through her communicator. "Mission's done. I'll know where we're going soon."

Vera had quite literally grabbed her by the scruff of her jacket, hauling her up and shoving her into the nearest skycar before she could think about refusing. The ride to Pandora's Box had been short and quiet, the only interruption coming from Illia in the backseat. She also suggested that Shepard work on her barrier if she wanted to avoid winding up dead one day.

And when they finally did show up to the packed club, heading inside and going straight for the stairway leading to the VIP section, Shepard paused and cast a glance towards the downstairs bar. Looking back towards Vera and Illia, neither of whom had noticed that Shepard was no longer following them, she called out, "Hey!"

Both asari turned, but it was Vera that snapped back an impatient "What?"

"I'll meet you upstairs. The drink menu down here is different than the one in VIP and I want a dark and stormy." Vera looked at her incredulously, but Shepard was being one hundred percent honest so she stared right back. It was _hard_ to find good ginger beer on the Citadel; the last time she'd been here Matt the Bartender That Annoyed Barbra had mixed a fantastic cocktail and she wasn't about to risk missing out. It would also give Shepard to tell Garrus _I told you so_ without being overheard. "I'll even grab you one if you want it, Grumpy."

Just as Vera was about to protest Illia raised her hand. "I'll take you up on that, actually." She smiled rather softly for a cold, analytical information broker, and Shepard found herself smiling back. When Vera turned to glare at Illia for her unfair insubordination, Illia's smile turned into a teasing grin.

With a groan, Vera threw her hands up in theatrical dismay. "Of all the humans I could have gotten stuck with, I got the reckless biotic who's picky about her booze. Yeah, whatever. Sign me up for one of your fancy drinks. Just be snappy about it." Shepard nodded with bright eyes and a grin and dashed off, pushing her way through the crowd to get to the bar. Vera and Illia watched her go, and Illia's hand fell to rest on Vera's waist. "I'm surprised that _you_ of all people seem to trust her," Vera said, her voice low. She bumped her hip against the information broker's, guiding them towards the VIP area with an arm tossed carelessly across Illia's shoulders. "Normally, you're suspicious to the point of paranoid."

"It was sad, reading through all the arrest reports and the info that our contacts in the Sol system sent me. Human orphans are practically currency. Send a dozen here to serve as mercs, get paid in weapons systems upgrades over there. Get one killed on a job, find three more to replace them before the day is done." Illia didn't have much experience with humans, not as a species. She knew plenty about meathead Neanderthals that thought being tough on Earth meant they could be tough out in space. Those were the humans Jona had been talking about when she'd called them fodder. It wasn't an incorrect term to use. Each and every one of them got themselves killed way before earning their Eclipse armor.

But Shepard was shaping up to be different; she was resilient and adaptable, and she was one of the few humans that Illia had met that actually seemed like a real person, personality and all.

It was a shame that she wouldn't be with them for very long. Not with the hungry Ardat Yakshi prowling around upstairs.

Shepard finally made it to the bar and slapped her credit chit down on the counter. She called out her order and soon her chit was swiped, the _ding_ of the credit transfer lost in the din of the crowded downstairs lounge. Bodies pushed against her on both sides, which she was used to, but it wasn't until she felt a sharp exhale breeze against the back of her neck that she stiffened.

"Oh my god, you're alive!" Barbra the Exhausted Server from Shepard's last visit to the Box appeared at her shoulder, resting a shaky hand on Shepard's bare forearm. She looked even more exhausted than the last time Shepard had seen her, and judging by the state of the woman's makeup Shepard guessed that she might have been working a double shift. She didn't envy her for that. But what was this about still being alive?

"Uh... yeah, still kicking. Is that surprising?" Shepard asked, half-joking.

Barbra searched her face, confused, shocked. The last time she'd seen this young woman, the polite one with the gang tattoo and smell of Earth still wafting from her hair, she'd been with the _asari._ The _scary_ one. The one that invited people upstairs who never came back. Barbra had seen it happen three times already, each one disappearing quicker than the last. The first victim had lasted four weeks: four visits to the Box, four visits that ended with blue hands and dark smiles guiding them upstairs. There had been no fifth visit, and that had been months ago.

The latest victim had barely lasted a week.

And this one! The moment Barbra had seen this girl with the asari, she'd known it was happening again. The look in the asari's eyes had been hungry, dark intent practically dripping from her grasping fingers. And the young woman had followed her upstairs, unaware, like a lamb following a wolf into its den. Barbra was no fool; she and every other downstairs staff member knew that the bar's owner had _mysteriously_ disappeared under the guise of a surprise vacation right after the first Eclipse sisters had shown up. She knew that asking questions would lose her a lot more than her shitty job, so even though her heart broke for the poor souls that got mixed up with that _asari_ there was nothing she could do about it. At least, there hadn't been up until now.

"Listen to me, sugar. You need to go. You need to get far away from here, before you end up like the others!" She hissed into the young woman's ear, her voice harried and pleading. Shepard stiffened, eyes narrowing at the older blonde with apprehension clear in her hazel eyes.

"What others?"

Barbra cast a furtive glance around the bar, praying that there weren't eyes on them. She squeezed Shepard's arm, and tried again to make her point clear. "The asari that you were with last time I saw you, she's _dangerous._ "

"She's with Eclipse, of course she's dangerous." Shepard replied, and here was Matt with her drinks. She nodded her thanks at the scruffy, portly gentleman behind the bar as he set down three glasses and missed the knowing look he shot to Barbra.

"No!" Barbra said, " _Listen._ The Eclipse mercs might be rowdy, but they're just mercs. They're harmless unless you make them mad. But the one you were with? The one that wears all black? She's different. Please hun, just trust me on this, and leave. Don't come back, stay far away!"

Shepard met Barbra's panicky gaze with an even, unreadable stare. A million questions ran through her mind, but most of them were drowned out by the overwhelming reminder that Vera and Illia, possibly even Morinth herself, would come downstairs looking for her if she was delayed much longer. For Barbra's sake, and her own, those questions would have to remain unasked. All Shepard could offer instead was one of her fake grins, an expression she'd cultivated over the years for the explicit purpose of assuaging other people's concerns. "I can't do that; I'd miss you too much. Who else is gonna call me cute human pet names while expressing such genuine concern for my well-being?" Before Barbra could respond Shepard had gathered up her drinks and adopted a more serious tone. "I appreciate the warning, and I promise to be careful. But running away isn't an option. Part of me wishes it was." Sure, she'd muttered that last part under her breath, but Barbra must have heard it because the server looked at her funny before her eyes glassed over, lower lip quivering, and she hurried away.

"Hey, Garrus?" Shepard said, subtly activating her communicator with a flex of her wrist. Her omni-tool blinked once, quickly, and then the turian's voice was humming in her ear.

 _"What is it, kid? Are you okay?"_

"Yeah, but I just got the weirdest warning. There's an asari with Eclipse, the one that first bought me up to the VIP lounge. One of the servers just hinted that I wasn't the first she'd brought up there, and I'm getting weird vibes. Vera also said something suspicious on my first job, now that I think about it..."

 _"Want me to do some snooping?"_

"Definitely. Her name is Morinth. Mean anything to you?"

There was a pause before Shepard heard anything in response. _"It doesn't ring any bells but that's an odd name by asari_ _standards. I'll do some digging. You alright otherwise?"_

Shepard reassured him that she was fine. Part of her wanted to gloat that she'd been right about tonight's meetup taking place at Pandora's Box, but after her interaction with Barbra she wasn't in a gloating mood. Instead she kept herself busy trying to keep her three drinks from being jostled by the crowd. As she headed towards the VIP area a rowdy grunt of a man slurred at her, asking where she was going alone with all those drinks and she rolled her eyes. When he didn't leave her alone, turning to follow her, she promptly stomped the heel of her boot into his closest foot and as he doubled over with a pained shout she grinned and slipped away.

The krogan standing guard at the door to the VIP section was the same one that had been there last time, and he was chuckling. Shepard, tilting her head, asked, "What, you saw that?"

The krogan nodded, rows of teeth glimmering in the low light as he smiled. "You've got a quad, human. Must be why you're not dead yet."

Shepard frowned. "Do all aliens really see us humans as _that_ fragile?"

"I could rip your legs off with one hand."

"And then I'd use one of mine to beat you to death with my freshly severed legs, so what? " She shot back, her tone lighthearted and joking. "Then I'd use that same hand to stitch 'em back on."

The krogan laughed then, a great rumble beginning deep in his gut. "You pyjaks _are_ resilient, I'll give you that." He nodded towards the door, opening it with a press of his great paw against the security panel. "The Eclipse sisters told me to let you through when you came up. They're at the bar waiting for you. Who knows, maybe I'll get used to seeing you around, human."

"Our relationship has not yet reached the point where I can look forward to that, _Fraig_. But thanks." Shepard stepped past him, and the bizarre sound of asari club music pounding throughout the VIP area immediately made her cringe. _Ugh, what I wouldn't give for some normal house music._ It was harder to spot Vera and Illia than Shepard would have liked. The black lights made all the asari in the room glow with an unearthly blue light, and most of them were wearing some version of the yellow Eclipse armor. The krogan doorman had told her to head for the bar, so after a deep breath off she went.

A hungry pair of blue eyes followed her every move.

"Shepard, over here!" A sharp voice called out, and Shepard breathed a sigh of relief when she finally caught sight of Vera's familiar facial markings. She was standing with Illia, who had turned to look at Shepard as well. Both leaned against the bar, though neither had drinks yet. They were clearly waiting on the ones in Shepard's hands. Shepard hurried to join them, doing her best to ignore the varying degrees of glances and glares aimed at her by the other bar patrons. Most of the mercs on the squad Shepard had been working with, Vera's squad, were friendly towards her. Maybe not friendly, but they were at least polite. For the most part, they ignored her. Being in Pandora's Box was different though. The asari here were meaner, more entitled. They walked with a swagger that was probably backed up by the natural biotic prowess their species possessed, and Shepard's survival instincts gently asked her to stick close to Vera. Ignoring the looks wasn't _too_ difficult. So long as no one made an ass of themselves and got all up in her space looking for trouble, there probably wouldn't be another bar fight. Probably. Hopefully?

"Hey guys, sorry I took so long. They're slammed down there. Here," Shepard put the glasses down on the counter and slid two together into the waiting hands of the asari. Illia took an appreciative sip immediately but Vera gave hers a cautious sniff before she sampled it.

With a considering hum, Vera said, "Not bad."

Shepard snorted before taking a long sip of her own cocktail, the rum and ginger sweet on her tongue. "So, why was I so desperately needed at the bar tonight? Do you take your team bonding that seriously?" She joked, glancing between the two asari.

"Jona needed you to be seen tonight. That's one reason."

"Why?"

Vera fixed Shepard with a steady look, then tossed her head in the direction of the plush leather booths and circular tables that lined the far wall. Jona _was_ there, looking again like a self-satisfied alpha lion surrounded by deadly, loyal lionesses. A human man sat across from her, and just then did Shepard notice that there seemed to be two crews in the Box's VIP lounge tonight. Her heart stopped when she glanced to her left and saw two human men staring at her, both wearing matching red and black ensembles.

Both had chillingly familiar tattoos on their right forearms.

"What the fuck are the Reds doing here?" Shepard murmured, mostly to herself. Was this about to get bad? Why were they here? Who even were they, some sort of organized Citadel chapter? Shepard hadn't thought they had numbers enough yet for a formal crew to be running around, and practically in uniform at that. And why were they all glaring at her? Did they know she was a rat? How? Had Pallin screwed up, let her name slip? Were they here to warn Jona? Was she about to get herself killed? Maybe she should've listened to Barbra...

"Easy, Shepard," Vera surprised her by clapping a comforting hand down on Shepard's shoulder, though there was enough force behind the display for precious liquid to come sloshing over the sides of Shepard's glass. Shepard cursed and readjusted her grip, shaking the excess liquid off her now-wet hand. Vera looked like she might have wanted to apologize for a moment, but then that moment passed and she was all business. "Your old buddies found out we had a biotic joining our ranks. Or rather, Jona started advertising it because she knew it'd piss people off. She's... unpredictable that way. Illia knows how selective your old biotic initiative program was, how few of you there are. When this asshole showed up here yesterday demanding to talk to Jona, we figured out what he was after pretty quick."

Shepard had been off yesterday. She'd spent half the day at the cover apartment lying low, napping and training. The other half she'd spent with Liara learning more about the Protheans. Or, more honestly, she'd watched Liara talk about the Protheans like they were the most fascinating creatures in the galaxy, like their disappearance was a puzzle only she could solve. It had... stirred squishy parts of her heart that she was content for now to ignore.

She looked at the man sitting across from Jona, only to find that he was staring at her with murder in his eyes. Despite herself, she shivered. "Me."

Illia disagreed. "Not you specifically," she said between sips of her drink. "All he knew was that a Reds biotic had 'turned tail,' and he didn't agree with their decision. After all the money spent making you what you are, he says, you belong to the Reds. Jona's taking care of it, but she wanted you to be here so she could prove she meant it when she said you were one of us now."

"Which you aren't yet, by the way, not officially." Vera quipped with a grin. "But he doesn't need to know that." Honestly, she doubted that Shepard would ever _be_ considered a real member of the crew. With Morinth hovering in the background, any investment into Shepard's growth was essentially a waste of resources. Vera was sure that this whole affair was more to make a point to the human mercs that had been building influence on the Citadel. Jona had already given Vera her orders: squeeze whatever usefulness she could out of Shepard while the girl was still around, then tie up any loose ends once Morinth had her way. She didn't like it, didn't like having an Ardat Yakshi in their midst, but she couldn't help that her boss was a fucking psycho.

Speaking of Morinth, where was that monster? Every time Vera's team had come back from a mission without Shepard, the dark asari had voiced her displeasure. Vera, who refused to admit that Morinth terrified her the way an Ardat Yakshi terrified _any_ sane asari, had always stood her ground and repeated herself: "We invited her. She said no. Take it up with her next time you see her." And now was that time, but Morinth had yet to appear. Vera was sure she was lurking in the shadows somewhere, observing. Waiting for the right moment to strike.

"But why are they _here_?" Shepard asked, squaring her shoulders and staring down the two men that had steadily begun moving closer towards the bar. Neither one of them was familiar, but Shepard didn't need to know them to know that they meant trouble. And Shepard had never been known to back down from a fight. "What do they expect to get out of it?"

"I imagine they want to take you back," Illia said, rather calmly for someone that had also noticed the two aggressive men approaching their little trio.

Shepard finally decided their eavesdropping friends had gotten too close for comfort when she saw one of the two men casually rest his hand on the sidearm strapped to his hip out of the corner of her eye. She turned with a sudden growl, bristling like a scrapyard guard dog. "Can I _help_ you two idiots?"

The taller of the two men, a pale young man with a buzzcut and cold blue eyes seemed surprised by the ferocity leveled at him. He clearly hadn't planned on taking her seriously. He had in fact, looked rather bored up until that moment. He looked to his partner for his reaction. The shorter man (the one that had a hand resting on his gun) was also pale, with had a mop of messy, sandy blond hair that was in desperate need of a wash. Both men wore their Reds tattoos proudly on their forearms, their tight black shirts only coming down to their elbows.

The shorter man spoke first, and when he did his voice was a greasy as his hair. "Easy, sweetheart. The boss just wants you to come back to work for us. We know about what happened with Finch and Adams, we don't blame you for what you did."

"If you want me to take anything you say seriously, _never_ call me sweetheart again."

The taller man actually laughed out loud at that, and finally seemed to find his voice. "Damn! Girls like you make me wish I was still back home; no one on this chunk of platinum has a sense of _humor_ anymore." He grinned, his teeth discolored in that oh-so-telling way that told Shepard this particular Red had been sand-blasting his way through missions. Now that she was really looking at him, she noticed that his eyes bore a similar reddish discoloration. Poor guy. Shepard knew how hard it was to get off once you finally started doping up on red sand. That's why she'd never been enough of an idiot to try it.

 _That's not fair, you know it's never that_ _easy,_ she gently chided herself.

"If we're talking senses of humor here, _I_ find it hilarious that you morons actually think you have permission to speak to us," Vera growled from behind Shepard, her blue eyes narrowed in the direction of the two men. Both instantly seemed to clam up, seemingly unwilling to confront the asari squad captain. Not that Shepard could blame them; she knew firsthand how dangerous Vera could be when she meant business.

The blond-haired man tried to ignore the thinly-veiled threat Vera had sent their way and directed all of his attention to Shepard. "Look, the boss knows you followed protocol. The only reason he's pissed is because of Grim."

Vera and Illia both shot Shepard looks that very clearly asked ' _what are they talking about?'_ and Shepard inwardly cursed. Maybe she _was_ about to get busted. "What about Grim?"

This time the taller man answered. "The double dealing! We had no idea that Grim was still pulling in earnings from your chapter. When he came to us looking for work, we were told he was a free bird. No one knew he was ripping us both off until you got him bopped! The boss tore our informants a new one, let me tell you, it was _awesome."_

Safe. Shepard was safe. No one was any the wiser about her involvement with C-Sec. Shepard breathed a sigh of relief, masking it as a disgruntled sigh as she turned to Vera and Illia. "Grim was the fucker that messed with your commando's bondmate, the one I helped put away. The Reds have a contingency plan in place for when their members get caught, alright?" And then she explained said contingency plan to the two asari, all the while thanking the powers that be that she wasn't about to get her cover blown and her head subsequently blown off.

"So, you idiots get yourselves caught _that_ often?" Vera eventually asked, chuckling.

"Hey, how were we supposed to know turians could _smell_ red sand?" Shepard defended. The two Reds had actually left Shepard alone once Vera and Illia made it clear that they weren't going to let the human be spirited away.

Before Vera could continue teasing her Illia laid a hand on the squad captain's arm. Illia looked nervous, her hand gripping her glass with clear tension. Vera and Shepard turned to follow her gaze, and Shepard's heart sank. The chapter boss was stalking towards her, and Jona was frowning. The asari scattered around her were humming with nervous energy, sensing their alpha's displeasure.

"You! Shepard! I wanna talk to you." The chapter head's voice was stern and angry, the voice of an alcoholic businessman rolled together with a veteran drill sergeant. Even Shepard, with her utter disregard for authority, cowered a bit under the volume being thrown her way. He was the only human in the room more heavily armed than she, with a pistol on each hip and an assault rifle strapped to his back. Shepard also caught the sight of sticky grenades strapped to his utility belt, and what could have been a pair of recon mines? He was packing, that was for certain. He also had a wicked burn scar creeping up along his neck beneath the collar of his black shirt that Shepard couldn't keep her eyes off of.

Shepard chose not to speak, instead putting her drink down on the bar counter and stepping forward to meet him. She raised her chin and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, instinctively awakening the slightest bit of her biotic power to hum beneath her skin in case she needed it. He towered over her, and that was when a lot of the asari in the room realized how _short_ the human really was. For such a small package, barely meeting the man's chin, they knew she could hit like a battering ram. It was kind of cute, actually, giggle-worthy at least.

The chapter boss stared her down, and Shepard could see that unlike his lackeys this man was smart enough to have _not_ sampled his wares. His green eyes were clear, free of that red stain that marked the others as addicts. "So, you're Jane Shepard. The turncoat."

"I'm no turncoat," Shepard shot back, calmly but clearly. "You know our policy. I did my job, followed protocol, so I don't know what you expect to get out of being here. And it's _just_ Shepard _,_ for the record." _Please don't mention the fact that everything I know, Executor Pallin knows. Please don't. Please tell me that's still a secret._

"Well, _Shepard,"_ he spat. "That's all well and good for the dime a dozen grunts, but we both know you're a bit more expensive than that. Unless you've got enough credits on you to cover the cost of your implant, you're coming with me. Everything that you are, everything that you could be, you owe that to the Tenth Street Reds."

The relief she felt upon knowing that this man really _hadn't_ come here to expose her for ratting them out was lost in a sudden burst of righteous anger. Shepard bristled, outrage growing deep within her because this man, this _asshole,_ had just dared to suggest that Shepard had had it easy. How _dare_ her try to say that Shepard hadn't had to bite and kick and claw her way to where she was today, that she hadn't _earned_ her right to be here but had instead had it handed to her on a biotic platter. Her body's adjustment to the biotic implant had been hard enough, and that included all the headaches and adrenaline that came with the initial energy flux. But learning how to use it? That had all been her own doing. Her biotic style was as improvised and informal as it could be, a collective study of traditional forms and ideas taken from old human media. _Star Wars_ of all things had been a big help for an adolescent Shepard. _Use the Force, Jane._

"Shepard isn't going anywhere, human. Which I'm sure Jona already told you," Vera snarled, tendrils of biotic energy curling through the air around her.

"I don't care what your boss has to say, bitch."

Shepard stepped further into the chapter boss' space, shoving him backwards to every human in the room's surprise. "Mind your manners, _dude."_

"If you think I've got qualms about doing this the hard way, you're going to be disappointed, Shepard!" And the man pulled one of the pistols from his hip and turned off the safety, aiming it right at the spot between Shepard's eyes. Suddenly every merc in the room was on their feet and reaching for their guns or summoning their biotics. The Eclipse mercs, the dozens of asari Shepard had previously thought to be staring her down with daggers in their sapphire eyes, were now leaping to her defense. They blocked the paths of the human mercs trying to get to their boss, biotic threats keeping them back. Vera and Illia had both stepped forward to flank Shepard on either side, each with one hand raised. Shepard felt the energy of their combined barriers wash over her with an electric shiver.

"And if you think we won't kill you right here, right now, you're a fool," Illia hissed, low and threatening.

It was a standoff. Shepard was safe, the chapter boss clearly knew that. With two asari casting protective barriers over her and his men kept back, he didn't have many options. Shepard didn't want the man dead yet either, as much as he'd pissed her off, so she was content to wait for him to figure out that he'd lost. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't get that chance.

A hungry pair of blue eyes had finally seen their opportunity to strike.

"My, my... what have we here?" A sultry voice broke the stiff silence. All heads turned to see a breathtaking asari in all black gliding forward with the grace of a deadly viper. Her crystalline eyes glittered in the light of the club, her smile coy and dangerous. Shepard felt the chapter boss loosen his grip on his gun, his shoulders losing their stiffness. She fought the urge to roll her eyes when she saw the stupefied look on his face. _I swear, all men are the same._ Shepard met Morinth's heated gaze and felt her own cheeks flush. She decided to cut the guy some slack. She couldn't deny the overwhelming nature of Morinth's sex appeal, couldn't ignore the presence of the gravitational pull she wielded.

Jona Sedaris had finally decided to put her two cents in, rising from her booth with a sick grin that immediately made Shepard's skin crawl. "Damien here thinks that Shepard belongs to the Reds. I _tried_ to reason with him, but as you can see he wants to be difficult."

Morinth tutted, her path unobstructed as she made her way across the room. Humans and asari tripped in their hurry to remove themselves from her path. The humans looked star struck, the asari afraid. Her voice was chiding when she said, "Now, Damien darling, be reasonable. When a lady says no, she means no. I thought that was something _real_ men respected?"

Damien, as he was finally named, spluttered out a nonsensical string of denials and protests. "But she's too valuable an asset, I can't-"

"Hush, darling," Morinth said, her eyes clouding over with black. When had she gotten that close? Just a second ago she'd still been halfway across the bar. Shepard felt Vera and Illia stiffen behind her, heard Illia gasp. Morinth laid her hand on the man's chest, and the hand holding his pistol went limp. The gun clattered to the floor, powering off. All the fight went out of him in the next instant. The expression on Morinth's face was one of expectant yearning, colored by dark pleasure. "Shepard belongs to us now. So why don't you be a good boy... and _embrace eternity."_

Shepard didn't understand what happened next. One moment the man was fine, a slumped figure sporting a dopey schoolboy grin, and the next there was biotic energy and black sparks dancing all across his body as his jaw wrenched open in a silent scream. One of the barriers protecting Shepard ceased to exist as Illia turned away from the bizarre and disturbing display, shielding her eyes. Vera only strengthened her barrier, her jaw clenched and shoulders statue-stiff. The Reds chapter boss crumpled to the floor, and when he did not rise and no one went to aid him Shepard realized he was dead. Her eyes widened, dread pooling in the back of her throat like bile. Across the room Jona Sedaris was cackling wildly, ordering her stunned mercs to kindly escort the remaining Reds from the premises. The humans did not need the assistance. One look from Morinth, the black receding from her eyes as she breathed a sigh of satisfied relief was enough to make them flee the scene, scrambling to get away from this terrifyingly beautiful creature that had just killed one of their own with her _mind._ If only they'd known more about asari, they would have known that that was not normal. In any sense.

"Sorry you had to see that, Shepard," Morinth cooed, approaching the stunned girl with just the slightest bit of trepidation. She hadn't wanted to make a scene, but she'd been so _hungry_ lately and Jona had asked her to help with their little Reds problem. If she wanted to stay on Jona's good side and utilize Eclipse's resources, she needed to play nice. "But I just couldn't _stand_ to see him speak to you in such a manner... or risk having him take you from me." Shepard jumped when Morinth reached out cup the human's cheek, eyes frantic and mistrustful. Morinth inwardly cursed upon seeing such a negative reaction. _Shit. She_ thought for a moment, but then an easy smile crept across her face and she withdrew a small bottle from a hidden pocket in her suit. She pushed past the human and took a seat at the bar, gently patting the bar stool beside her and flashing her best pair of sweet eyes. "Let me make it up to you? You seem exhausted."

"I-I am," Shepard stuttered, clearing her throat and looking to Vera for help, an explanation, _anything._

But all Vera did was avoid her gaze, muttering "There's reason number two," before she abandoned Shepard at the bar and moved to assist the other Eclipse mercs with removing the shell of a man that now lay dead on the floor.

Shepard took a shaky breath and found her Saints medal with an even shakier hand, trying her best to steady her breathing. The threat of being exposed coupled with the almost-brawl and the shocking display of _whatever_ _that was_ had taken a lot out of her. Her joints also still ached from the shield discharge she'd suffered just an hour beforehand. She toyed with the small gold charm and let the familiarity of it reassure her as she took the seat offered to her. Morinth seemed pleased by her acceptance and waved over a server, one of the oblivious human servers that still worked upstairs and wasn't as justifiably afraid of her all the asari servers were. "Any requests, Shepard? More wine?"

"Something stronger would be great, actually. It's... been a day."

 _That suits me just fine,_ Morinth thought with a predator's grin as she ordered them both a double shot of ryncol. She _loved_ the way ryncol burned going down, and she knew the fastest way to get Shepard to warm up to her again would be through chemical assistance. She placed the small bottle down on the counter between them, popping it open and withdrawing two small doses of her favorite recreational drug. She took the first and offered the other to Shepard, the small white pill a promise of pleasure in the palm of her hand. "If you're as worn out as you look, this might help. It's nothing dangerous, don't worry, I'll even take a second dose to prove it to you."

Shepard considered the pill. Morinth worried that she would refuse it but when the server returned with their drinks Shepard surprised her by snatching the dose, popping it into her mouth, and throwing back her shot. Morinth watched with a wanting gaze as Shepard ran a hand through her hair, her eyes closed as she took a calming, centering inhale. When her eyes opened again on the exhale she seemed a fair bit more like the fiesty creature that had first caught Morinth's eye. The dark asari smiled and turned to the server, reaching out to stroke the soft skin of the human female's hand. The server melted under the attention, pupils dilated in that telltale manner Morinth loved. "Be a dear and bring us the bottle."

As Morinth charmed the server, Shepard discreetly pocketed the pill she would have never in a _million_ _years_ have been dumb enough to take. She knew now for a fact that Morinth _was_ dangerous and that Barbra had been right. But she couldn't run, so she had to play this all very carefully. She had to act interested, but coy enough for Morinth to _enjoy_ being kept at arm's distance until Shepard could figure out a way to make her lose interest organically. And she had to see if she could dig any information out of Vera or Illia. Most importantly, she had to stay alive. Luckily for Shepard, Morinth seemed content to be rather tame for the rest of the night, engaging Shepard in a surprisingly cultured conversation about music and art. She asked Shepard to tell her a few more Greek myths, and Shepard chose the ones she thought the asari would identify with the most. She talked about Aphrodite, about the Judgement of Paris, all the myths having to do with beautiful, dangerous women. Morinth approved, purring her way through words and finding every opportunity to touch Shepard's knee or play with the human's hair. Shepard thought about Liara. Eventually they got onto the subject of Shepard's altercation with Damien, and Morinth asked why she insisted on being called by her family name.

"I don't _like_ my name," Shepard said, sharply. Morinth paused, her drink halfway to her mouth. Her bright blue eyes slowly fixed themselves on Shepard. The short, harsh manner in which Shepard responded had momentarily thrown her off guard.

"May I ask why?"

Shepard chuckled but it was not a bright or humorous sound. "You wouldn't get it." When Morinth continued to stare, eyes narrowing slightly in a challenge, Shepard 's expression darkened further and she tipped back her drink, downing it one go. Ryncol, whatever it was, burned and it coupled with her frayed nerves had put her in a bit of a sour mood. At this point, she really wanted to just go home and sleep. She slapped the glass down onto the counter top and roughly ran a hand through her errant bangs. "You might not know this, or _care,_ but I'm an orphan. There's no one back on Earth that knows me well enough to remember me. And... part of me has always wondered-" she paused. She turned to Morinth then, adjusting herself on the bar stool to the point where she was seated side-saddle. She fixed Morinth with the deepest stare Morinth had so far seen on the young human's face. The human's black pupils seemed to stretch on, infinitely. "On Earth, when a body turns up and no one comes to claim it, the authorities give it a nickname. Jane Doe. Or, John Doe if it was a man. You wanna know why I hate my name? Because it's all too easy to picture some exhausted social worker that thinks he's funny naming an unclaimed orphan after a corpse."

Morinth wasn't sure how to process that, wasn't sure if she actually _understood._ "Is... is that why you prefer your family name?"

"I don't know that that's mine for sure either, so I wouldn't call it a family name... but it's better than being just another Jane Doe."

It was late when Shepard was finally allowed to leave, and she hailed a skycar to the Spartan District. The alcohol buzzing through her veins was hard to keep out of her voice as she called Liara to let the asari know that she was fine, that she would meet up with Garrus as soon as she thought it was safe and have him escort her home. She could tell that Liara was glad that she called, and that was the first thing to make her genuinely smile all night. When she got to her shitty cover apartment, she took a very drunk shower to get the scent of Pandora's Box and its patrons off of her skin. She was very careful to keep the little pill she'd pocketed safe.

 **Skycar** **| Citadel | September 28** **th** **2174**

Shepard took the little evidence bag Garrus held out to her, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes. Her hair was still wet from her shower. She was too tired to properly process half of what had happened that night, and she'd promised to give Garrus a full rundown in the morning after some sleep. He hadn't taken much convincing after she'd told him about the 'gift' Morinth had tried to give her. It made him angry, a level of angry that surprised Shepard. She slipped said gift into the evidence bag and handed it back to her partner, happy to be rid of it.

"I still think Liara should know about this," he said for the third time. He sealed off the evidence bag and shot a request off to the forensics labs to get it tested as soon as he was able to drop it off. It could have been any number of things. His first guess would have been Hallex, but even that diagnosis was useless unless they could figure out where the Hallex was made and if it had been laced with anything dangerous.

"I don't want her to worry any more than she needs to," Shepard said. "It's not like the asari tried to slip it in my drink without me noticing or anything, she offered it and I played along to figure out what the hell kind of state she was trying to get me in." Shepard slumped down into the plush passenger seat of the unmarked skycar, trying to keep everything from spinning. She'd already told him about the ryncol, and he'd picked up water and food for her on his way to pick her up from the apartment. The auto-pilot was taking them towards the Tiberius Towers complex now, the night lights flashing by them as they took the long way there. They'd both agreed that it would be best to let Shepard sober up before they brought her back to Liara, though Garrus detested the idea of leaving the scientist in the dark about the nature of Shepard's not-so-subtle admirer. If he had his way the two would be bonded by the end of next month because they were _adorable_ together and he didn't want secrets getting in the way of that.

Before any progress was to be made on that front though, he wanted to find out as much as he could about this 'Morinth' character. He'd heard of asari being able to do permanent damage through the meld, but he'd never seen it in action before, had certainly never seen anything like what Shepard had described.

'Morinth,' whoever she was, had made it to the top of his To-Do list.

* * *

 _I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written for anything ever._

 _-Cel_


End file.
